What Happens In Vegas
by 26hannah26
Summary: BB "If she thought being stuck in a room with her partner after having drunken sex with him was bad, things were about to get a lot worse…" Brennan wakes up next to Booth in a Vegas hotel room, with a hangover and a wedding ring. OMG FINALLY COMPLETE!
1. Run To The Hills

A/N Howdy hey! So, uh, I had made a deal with myself that I wouldn't do multi-chapter stories anymore because I inevitably get to a point about halfway in where I want to die. But this one feels different, so I'm going with it. I found the first couple of paragraphs on my computer, and I have no idea when it was written, but I thought I should give it the chance to at least be worked on a little before I toss it aside. So I got to work on it and I actually think it could be a good'un. I'm aware that this has probably been done to death, but I want to have a go at it. Let me know what you think, and I should get some more written today. Enjoy!

Temperance had been having the dream again. The one where they're trapped in the car and can't get out, before the explosion kills them both. Pretty much every night she wakes up in a cold sweat, breathless, and can't get back to sleep again before the alarm rings, the one that would rouse her if she actually _was_ sleeping. Pretty much every night it woke her – only the nights where she drank so much she passed out were the ones where she slept for at least five hours.

But tonight it wasn't the dream that had woken her (although it would have done sooner or later, that was one thing she could always be certain of), but it was the phone's shrill ringing from the bedside cabinet. She let out a soft groan as she rolled over, limbs slightly tangled in the sheets, to look at the clock – the illuminated numbers showed it was 3.41 in the morning, of what day she couldn't be sure of yet. She was used to getting calls from work at this time in the morning. In the dark, she fumbled for the phone and when she felt it under her hand, lifted it close to her face to see who it was calling at this hour. When she didn't recognize the number, she threw it back down on the bed beside her, but the ringing didn't stop. Infuriated that her precious little time devoted to sleep was being interrupted, she flipped on the lamp and rubbed her eyes as they adjusted to the new light that was infiltrating them.

This was not her bedroom. This was not a place she recognized at all. Her bedroom at home wasn't exactly full of personal touches (she was more of a nick-knacks girl rather than family photos, of which there admittedly weren't many), but this place was… sparse, completely devoid of anything remarkable to let her know where she was. The phone had stopped ringing by this point, so she scanned the room once more, concluding that if she couldn't figure out where she was, she could at least try to work out how she had got there. She was still lying on her side, and once she had surveyed that side of the room, she flipped over and found herself nose to nose with a sight which was not one that she had expected at all – Seeley Booth, her partner, flat on his back, sleeping soundly and snoring loudly.

"Oh no," she whispered into the dimly lit room. "No…"

This couldn't be happening – it had to be a dream, right? Because if it wasn't, if she had just had sex with her partner and arguably her closest friend, then she had ruined everything. _They_ had ruined everything. There was no undoing something like that – it would be like crossing a line on a one-way street. Their working relationship and their friendship would never be the same again, and they would be destined to work together in awkward silences forevermore. What the hell had they done?

She shut her eyes again and tried to work this all out rationally. Still unsure of where she was exactly, she tried to think back as far as she could – she remembered leaving the Jeffersonian on Thursday night, going home and packing a bag, and then… Nothing. Why would she have packed a bag? Surely she hadn't _planned_ to sleep with Booth? No, she must have been going somewhere else. After packing her bag, she recalled getting in a cab, and leaving her car parked back at home. She suddenly remembered where she was – she and Booth had been called to examine remains in the wreckage of an imploded hotel, so she had taken a cab to the airport and they had flown here – to Las Vegas.

So she was in Vegas. In a bed with her partner, with what felt suspiciously like an intense hangover. She had to get out. She had to go back to her own room, get in her own bed, and just hope that when he eventually woke up, he wouldn't remember any of the finer details about last night either.

Slowly, she pulled back the bedcovers, relieved to find that she wasn't naked but was in fact still clad in her underwear, and rolled as stealthily as she could out of the bed. If there was a God, she was praying to him right now that Booth didn't wake up. Once she was certain that he was still out for the count, she crept across the room and began the hunt for her clothes. After a little while stepping around in the dim orange glow from the lamp, trying to be as quiet as possible, she had collected her pants and shoes, but was still on the lookout for her shirt – part of her wanted to leave it and hope that no one saw her as she made a mad dash back to her room, if she remembered which one that was, but if he spotted it the next morning that would completely give the game away. Finally, after a nerve-wracking couple of seconds, she spotted it tossed precariously on top of his suitcase on the stand by the TV. She pulled in on hastily and was about to leave when she saw it.

"Oh no," she found herself whispering again, wishing the ground would swallow her up. It was _her_ suitcase her shirt found its way onto, which meant this was _her_ room. She had nowhere to run, and she was trapped in a room with her partner who would eventually wake up. This had to be a very, very bad dream. This simply couldn't be happening.

Temperance sighed and put her head in her hands, trying to come up with some other way to get out of this mess. Feeling something cool pressing against the skin of her cheek, she pulled her hands away again and looked down at them. Her eyes immediately spotted the silver band on her ring finger. Before she even knew what she was doing, she turned around to face Booth's sleeping form, and it didn't take a genius to see one just like it on his own hand. What the hell had they done last night?

If she thought being stuck in a room with her partner after having drunken sex with him was bad, things were about to get a _lot_ worse…

A/N2 Dun dun dun! Review if you can, please and thank you, they give me the warm-and-tinglies!


	2. You Shook Me All Night Long

A/N Hey! Firstly, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed/favourited/subscribed! It means so much to me! Secondly, how slowly has this week gone?! I've wanted to upload this chapter for ages, but I'm trying to pace myself because I'm one of those people that posts everyday for about a week then does nothing for months. So it's for your benefit that I hold out on chapters. On that note, I really hope you like this one! I have a weird feeling about this being my last story of aught nine (as it should be called for the rest of the year) and my last of the DECADE! How weird does that sound?! I remember NYE 1999 like it was yesterday! If you leave a review (please?) let me know your plans! I talk way too much up here, don't I?

Temperance spent the rest of the night dozing fitfully in the tub chair by the door to the bathroom. No matter how uncomfortable she was, there was no way she was getting back in bed with Booth. She didn't even know if he was wearing anything under the covers…

Every time she got close to falling back to sleep, she kept thinking about how much she hated not being able to remember anything about the previous night – how they got so drunk, how they ended up in bed together, and most of all how they ended up married. She just hoped to every conceivable God out there that she had that particular fact wrong, and that this was simply a misunderstanding.

Eventually, as the clock by the side of the bed showed that it was coming up to seven o'clock in the morning, he began to stir. As she heard him groan and roll over, she shut her eyes tightly and pretended to be asleep. Over the past four hours, she had concocted a plan so she knew what to say when he was awake and asking why he was asleep in her bed, in her hotel room. It looked as if now was the time to put it to use.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up, scanning the room until his eyes settled on her. "What time is it?"

"Seven," she replied, curious as to why his first question wasn't to do with why they were sharing a room. "We should probably get going soon."

"Right, right. Where are we?"

"Vegas. We have a case, remember?" her voice came out as quite condescending, which surprised her – it wasn't as if she had immediately remembered that fact herself.

"Right. Did we get drunk last night?"

"I presume so."

"You don't remember?"

"No, that's why I said 'I presume so'."

"Did you sleep in that chair all night?"

She froze momentarily, unsure of what to tell him. "No."

Giving her a strange look that said 'don't be cryptic with me when I've just woken up', he moved to pull back the bedspread and get up, but quickly thought better of it and felt his face flush ten shades of red in quick succession. "Why aren't I wearing pants?"

"I had hoped you weren't going to say that."

"Oh no..."

"Exactly."

"What did I do?"

"Well, the only conclusion I can draw is that _we_ had sex."

"Oh no. Are you kidding? Because you know sometimes your jokes can be a little obscure." She gave him the most scathing look she could manage at this time of day, with her pounding headache making any facial movement complete agony, and watched as his face fell. "You're not kidding."

"Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? It takes two to copulate."

"I'm pretty sure that's not the expression you were thinking of. I'm sorry because, no matter how drunk we were, I should have done the gentlemanly thing and stopped it. I feel like I've taken advantage of you."

"Why?"

"Why? Because we're partners – because we're _friends_. Look, maybe you can, but I don't think _I_ can pretend whatever happened last night didn't happen."

"No, I meant why should you have been the one to stop it? I'm quite capable of doing that myself. Ergo there's no reason for you to feel that you've taken advantage."

"That's not the point, Temperance." He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Would you mind turning around while I find some clothes and go to the bathroom?"

"It's a little late for modesty now, don't you think," she muttered as she did what he asked and went to look out of the window, but he had already shut the bathroom door. She sighed deeply – this was just as horrible as she thought it would be. Perhaps she shouldn't have told him anything about last night. She could have just lied and said that they were both drunk, and that Booth had taken off his pants in a moment of inebriated frivolity. How she would come to explain the matching wedding rings was an altogether different matter, especially since she didn't even know herself how that happened. Today would definitely be interesting.

* * *

Temperance sat back down in the uncomfortable chair as she waited for Booth to emerge from the bathroom. She heard him flush the toilet and start running water into the sink, then the faucet was suddenly turned off and he hurriedly pulled the door open. He stood in the doorway wearing just his boxer shorts, looking at her wide-eyed with a very confused expression on his face.

"What else happened last night?"

Her head snapped up and she saw the look of worry on his face. "I don't know."

"Well, why am I wearing a ring? This isn't mine."

She had taken hers off when she first discovered it and slipped it into her pocket. Now he had discovered his own ring, she fished it out again and held it out to him. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this, but at the moment I can only draw one conclusion..."

He stared at her, mouth wide, until he found his voice again. "We didn't… Tell me we didn't!"

"I hate to say this, but I think we did."


	3. Take It Off

A/N Hey everyone. Thank you for the reviews for the last chapter, I'm so glad you're enjoying it. This chapter is dedicated to my dear, dear friend Alex, who was killed one year ago on the 7th. As I send this chapter out into the cosmic void that is the internet, I hope it finds you wherever you may be.

Booth went back to his own room while Temperance got ready herself. They didn't have much time until they had to be at the local police station, but she made it a priority to take a hot shower. She just wanted to wash the whole experience off of her. She was surprised to feel tears slip down her face and mingle with the water raining down on her. It was beginning to dawn on her just how awful the situation was. Everything was ruined between them now, and they wouldn't be able to go back to how they were. They would never be able to work together again and would have to get new partners. They couldn't be friends anymore. She stopped herself from taking that line of thought any further.

Bits and pieces of the previous night were starting to come back to her – she definitely remembered going to the hotel bar and ordering the first drink, which she assumed turned into several more. She remembered taking off her slacks and somehow pulling the button off them. For now, everything else was still muddled in her brain somewhere.

Once she had towelled herself off and put a clean change of clothes on, she called Booth to see if he was ready to leave. After a very short and awkward conversation, they met each other down in the hotel lobby, and then walked to where they had parked the rental car.

"Did you want to get something to eat on the way?" Booth asked as he unlocked the car and got in the driver's side door.

"Sure. There's a diner down the street."

"How come we can sniff out a diner wherever we are? That must be some kind of talent."

"Practically all towns have diners," she reasoned. That was the end of the conversation, and the two sat in silence until they pulled into the parking lot of the Uncle Red's Diner. Making their way inside, Temperance wondered if all diners followed the same floor plan and had the same interior designer. Every diner she had ever been to looked exactly like this one, from the Formica tabletops to the shiny vinyl chairs that were patched with duct tape. A blonde waitress showed them to one such table, and they sat down to look at the menu. At least they wouldn't have to look at each other.

"Do you think we should talk about _this_?" he asked, pointing to his ring.

"Why are you still wearing that?"

"I don't know, I guess I never thought to take it off." He looked down at it and went to slide it off his finger, but stopped and decided to put his hand in his pocket instead. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't _want_ to take it off. What the hell was that about, anyway? "Are we sure that we actually got… _married_?" he asked, whispering the last word in case someone they knew from the other side of the country might be listening it to their conversation. "I mean, we don't know for sure, do we?"

"No. But why else would we be wearing matching rings?"

"Maybe we won them. Or found them?"

"Well, before we get an annulment we should probably find out. If we get some time today, we could go and ask around the wedding chapels, see if anyone remembers us?"

"Um… Yeah. Yeah, OK." Why was he taken aback that she had suggested an annulment? And why did it make him feel kind of upset? He pushed those thoughts aside; of course they should get an annulment – staying married to his partner, and one of his best friends, was a stupid idea. She didn't even love him.

"OK."

They spent the remainder of their breakfast discussing the case they were working on almost monosyllabically, talking more to the waitress who kept bringing free refills of coffee than to each other. This was going to be a long couple of days.

* * *

The rest of the day dragged on slowly. All of the remains had been sent back to the Jeffersonian, so Temperance and Booth spent most of the day interrogating the now-elderly suspects together. Since the police station where they were based was on The Strip, whenever they were waiting for test results to come in or for another suspect to show up, they went down to one of the wedding chapels to try and find out where they had ended up late last night.

The first place was manned by a slightly suspicious-looking Elvis impersonator, with a crooked wig and ill-fitting white jumpsuit with patches of rhinestones missing from it. He didn't recognise them, so they headed out to the next chapel, which was painted a bright pink and the minister was another, slightly more impressive Elvis impersonator. They found his thick accent to be a little undecipherable, but eventually determined that they weren't there the night before either. The third place, named 'The Church of Argon-7', was a little different. Temperance wasn't sure what the theme of this wedding chapel was, but Booth eventually explained to her that it was something to do with aliens. The skinny teen in charge of booking couples in at the front desk told them that they had been closed the night before due to a rather exiting discovery at Area 51, so they couldn't have got married there.

As they walked out of the building housing The Church of Argon-7, frustrated that they didn't seem any closer to regaining their lost hours, Booth's cell phone began to ring. He answered it in his usual curt manner.

"Booth."

"_Hey, it's Angela. How're things in the City of Sin?"_

"Oh, they're great. Just great."

"_You don't sound sure… You guy's have a late night?" _He could practically hear her smiling mischievously into the phone.

"Very funny," he replied, trying to keep the panic and guilt out of his voice. "Did you call to chat or was there something you wanted?"

"_Oh, it's nothing __important; I was just calling to tell you I'd identified the victim."_

"Uh-huh, and?"

"_And you were __right; it was the waitress-slash-hooker who disappeared in '69. You're welcome."_

"Thanks, Angela. Now, was there anything else, we're very busy."

"_Are you sure there's nothing going on?"_

"It's fine. I'm just tired, I guess." He almost smacked himself for his poor choice of words, not wanting to add fuel to Angela's fire.

"_I'm sure. I knew you two going off on this little vacation together was a bad idea. Or a good idea, from my point of view."_

"I'm hanging up on you now. Goodbye, Angela." He flipped his phone closed and rubbed his temples. She knew how to make him feel like he'd done something wrong when he hadn't, so now the Catholic side of him was bouncing off the walls of his conscience. He turned to the woman who he was pretty certain would soon be his ex-partner as well as his ex-wife, and began to relay the information to her. "The remains from the hotel were Alexa Wilkinson. I guess we'd better get back and question her boss again."

She sighed and turned to look back down the street behind her. "Well, could we just check out that wedding chapel over there? I've got a feeling that could be the one."

"How come I have to listen to your gut, but you won't listen to mine without some evidence to back it up?"

"Can we just go and ask around?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead grabbing him by the arm and pulling him towards the entrance.

"Yes, dear."

A/N2 Aaaaand I'm back. Sorry about all that business at the top, I just felt I had to mark the occasion in some significant way, you know? But anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoyed that chapter and I'll see you next week, hopefully less subdued and with a big bad boy of a chapter! Although I have been kind of distracted this week, what with setting up my own business (I feel like such a grown up saying that!), but hopefully I can focus on this story again in the next few days. Peace out!


	4. Love Will Tear Us Apart

A/N Hey kids! How's it going? Thank you so much for your reviews, have I mentioned I get some kind of thrill from them? I'm a little early today, but I'm off to the theatre tonight so I won't get chance later (I'm not posh, it's a pantomime and I'm going for free because my dad works there). Anyway, this chapter was really hard to write for some reason. It was easy to write actually, then I realised I had written all I wanted to for this chapter, but it was only one page long, so I had to do more! And that caused me issues, because I didn't know what I could say! But I fumbled around a bit. Now, for some reason, I'm kind of not sure where this story is going. I know how it will end, but how to get there? Not so much. My solution to this problem will follow this chapter…

"We definitely ended up here last night. Remember, you found that statue hilarious?" she said, pointing to a porcelain figure of a nude cherub, at least three feet high, that wouldn't look out of place in an old lady's living room. The whole of the reception area was decorated in a very shabby-chic meets boudoir way, with weighty red velvet drapes and gilded mirrors on every available inch of wall.

"Why does he have a confused expression?"

"That's what you said last night."

"Well, at least one of us remembers. What the hell is this place?"

As if to answer his question, the heavy wooden doors to the ceremony room burst open, and two drunken newlyweds spilled out. Following behind them was what they assumed to be the man who had married them.

"Oh God," Booth murmured into the hand that was clamped over his mouth. "Only _we _could get married by Al Capone and his merry band of gangsters. How appropriate."

'Al' came towards them, clicked his fingers, and was immediately flanked by two flapper girls complete with feathered headbands and sparkly dresses. He looked Temperance and Booth up and down, before launching into his clearly well-rehearsed spiel, complete with a Chicago gangster accent. "So, you an' your broad wanna get married, eh? Well sir, you's have come to the right place: Al Capone's Pool Hall and House of Matrimony. Allow me to fix you's a cocktail while my two dames yak to ya about our range of ceremony packages." He clicked his fingers again and the flapper girls each took the couple by the arm and sat them down on a green velour sofa. Al went behind what they had initially assumed to be a reception desk, but which was actually a bar, and started pouring alcohol into two martini glasses.

"Actually, Al, we aren't here to get married," Booth said, releasing himself from his flapper girl's grip. "We think we were here last night. You remember us?"

"I don't, sir, but that's because I wasn't the Al workin' last night," he replied, never breaking character. "I got somethin' that could help you's, though." He picked up a heavy scrapbook off the bar and handed it to Booth, flicking it open to the last page. "We keep a picture of all our happy couples. See anyone you's recognise?"

Booth stared intently at the pictures on the page – countless inebriated or white-trash couples – before his eyes settled on one image in particular – he and his wife, his Bones, looking very drunk and disorderly, proudly showing off their new wedding rings.

A far-away sounding voice interrupted his panicked thoughts. "I don't like that look on your face." She took the book from him, and saw for herself what had drained the colour from his face. "Oh no."

* * *

They sat on the wall outside Al Capone's Pool Hall and House of Matrimony, trying to take everything in. They were married. They had proof. Neither was sure what to say to the other, so they sat in silence, both looking straight ahead but not focusing on anything in particular. It was early evening and humid, but a light breeze made it bearable. Booth reached up to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow.

"What do we do now?"

"Go back to work. Then, when we get a minute, we look into getting an annulment. I'm pretty sure this town has a lot of people who specialize in that kind of thing."

"OK. So, what, until then we just carry on as normal?"

"Yes," she turned to face him now, looking him square in the eye. "Will that be a problem for you?"

"I… No, not a problem. Let's go." He helped her up and they began walking back to the car. He thought about how she clearly knew what she wanted – was that how she always was, practical and logical, or had she been thinking this over the whole time? Would it matter to her what he wanted, even though he wasn't sure what that was himself?

"Are you sure?"

"What?"

"You seem… I'm not sure. Something's wrong."

"Well, obviously! Look what we've done, and tell me you don't think we have a problem!"

"I don't." He scowled at her, but she continued. "I know everyone thinks I'm emotionless, but there's nothing in this situation to get emotional about. You clearly don't see it that way."

"Can we not do this right now? There's no problem, I'm just hung-over."

She stopped dead, and if the situation was different she would have been a little amused to see him continue for a few more steps until he realised she was no longer walking with him. "Well, what is it? Is it so awful to be married to me? Even though it's only for a little while?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"You haven't called me Bones since last night, when we were going to the hotel bar. You clearly don't want to be my friend anymore! I knew this would happen…"

It was beginning to get dark, and the lights of the parking structure were dim at best. He brought his face closer to hers and squinted at her. "Are you crying?"

"No," she replied, fiercely wiping the obvious tears from her face.

"Yes you are."

"Why did you ask if you knew?"

"Come on," he said, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms tightly round her shoulders. She rested her head against his chest, feeling ridiculous at her outburst. "Of course I still want to be your friend; you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

Once they had returned to the police station, Temperance was needed in the tiny lab way in the back, through a door in the rear of the break room (much to her consternation, as it wasn't exactly well-equipped and was far less high-tech than she was used to), so Booth questioned the victim's boss alone.

"Were you sleeping with her, Mr Chandler? You know, a little thing on the side with the hot waitress? Did you promise her something in return?"

"It wasn't like that…"

"Sure it wasn't."

"Look, you must know what it's like, you're married," Mr Chandler replied, gesturing down to Booth's hand, currently fiddling with a pen. "The minute your wife slipped that ring on your finger, she had you trapped. That ring means she owns you. Before, when you were just dating, there weren't really any strings. But as soon as you sign those papers, boom, she's gotcha! You want to leave her, you gotta pay. Why would I risk having to give my old ball and chain half of everything I have – everything I worked so hard for – if we split?"

"That sounds like a pretty good reason to get rid of Alexa, doesn't it?" Booth looked down at his ring finger. Why _was_ he still wearing the ring? He was going to take it off about a dozen times, but he never did.

"I wasn't sleeping with her!" he said, banging his fist on the table.

"From the way your just described your wife, I say you were crazy not to be. Come on, tell me the truth."

"Look, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it. But it never happened. I'd arranged to meet her the night she disappeared, but she never showed. I just assumed she changed her mind."

"And when you never saw her again, you didn't think that was strange?"

"I propositioned her, I just figured she was embarrassed. And I was the boss, I had no idea that she didn't come back to work, it wasn't like I was standing at the door and made sure the employees turned up on time. I had a guy for that."

"I'm gonna need his name."

Chandler fumbled around in his wallet, looking for the business card of his former employee, who had now set up his own security firm. Meanwhile, he tried to make small-talk with Booth about the perils of married life. "So, how long have you been married?"

"Not long," Booth replied shortly, barely looking up from the paperwork he was filling in following the interrogation.

"Me and Dianne have been together for forty-eight years. Seems like a lifetime, huh?"

"Sure does."

"What does your old lady do? She one of them 'stay at home' types, which is pretty much just code for 'sitting around on her ass, watching TV and eating crap'?"

"No, she's got a job." He scratched his signature onto the last page of the forms, and slipped his pen back into his breast pocket. "We work together. You having any luck finding that card?"

"I'm getting there, I guess I need to get rid of some of the crap I keep in here. Aha!" He held up a tattered, dog-eared scrap of card triumphantly.

"Alright, I'll take that and you can get back to work."

"Excellent. You better get back to the wife, eh? That's gotta be a hoot, spending all day with her?"

"I couldn't work with anyone else," he smiled. "I'll show you out."

Temperance sighed behind the two-way mirror separating her from the interrogation room. Seeing the way he looked at his ring and the change in his attitude when he talked about her, she was beginning to get the feeling that he wouldn't give up on this marriage so easily…

A/N2 Understatement or what?! I love Al Capone! He is the best OC ever! He needs a spin off! Anyway… as the festive season is pretty much upon us, I'll be taking a short break if that's OK with y'all (although lets be honest, even if you said no, what are you gonna do, come all the way over here at CHRISTMAS and force me to write? Didn't think so!). I'll be back at the beginning of January, but maybe before if I get really bored. And I may post a little random something in the meantime to keep you sweet.


	5. I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

A/N I know, I'm a bad, bad person. I said I'd be back in January (which, hey, I am, alright?), but I also promised many of you I would be back at the beginning of January (which, OK, pushing it a little, but I am) and I even promised a few of you that I'd be back before then. I've had some funky writer's block going on, and I just didn't know what to write. This is what I have so far, and I can't promise you any more any time soon, but you just have to trust me when I say I'm working on it, OK? Because I am! Also – look, chapter titles! My all-time favourite thing, and they are all named after some of my favurite songs. Have a great day, and enjoy this chapter!

As Booth unlocked the door to his hotel room, he reflected on the car ride back there from the police station with his unwilling wife. She had been quiet the whole way back to the hotel, and her mind had clearly been elsewhere. He hadn't wanted to ask her about it, he just assumed her demeanour was normal under their circumstances. The truth was, he probably didn't want to know what she was thinking – probably the quickest way for them to not be married anymore.

All he wanted to do was throw himself down on his as-yet un-slept-in bed and try and sleep this off – the hangover that seemed to still be plaguing him, and the awful knot in his stomach that was most likely caused by the woman in the room next door. But before he could even toe off his shoes and loosen his tie, there was a knock at the door, so he turned back around to open it. It would be just his luck that she wanted to talk about what was wrong _now_…

But it wasn't her. It was just a bellboy with a burgundy and gold gift bag in his outstretched hand.

"For you, sir. Someone just dropped it off at the front desk."

"Thanks," Booth replied, tossing a dollar bill in the teen's general direction and closing the door on him, instead of awaiting a response.

He wasn't expecting anything to be delivered to him, so as he perched on the edge o the bed, he wondered what this could be and who it could be from. He opened the bag up and peered inside, spotting a red envelope and a red box with a big gold bow, which he turned out onto the bed. Inside the envelope was a card, with a picture of a flapper girl on the front, and the words 'greetings from Al Capone's Pool Hall and House of Matrimony'. As Booth held the card up, two souvenir wedding photos of he and Temperance fell out onto his lap.

"You've gotta be kidding me…" he groaned, turning his attention to the box with the bow. Lifting the lid and tossing it aside, he found a video tape. He groaned again, not needing much of an imagination to guess what was on it – he vaguely remembered a flapper girl with a video camera at the wedding chapel. He definitely wouldn't watch it, that would just make him feel worse.

He looked at their wedding picture, only able to focus on parts of it rather than the tragic whole – his drunken, unfocused gaze. Her messy hair and smudged lipstick baring witness to their first kiss as man and wife. The bedraggled looking bouquet of fake roses, obviously given to her as an afterthought. The way they appeared to be holding each other up. This picture made him feel physically sick.

It was nothing like it should have been. It should have been taken outside a quaint church in the springtime, he should have been wearing a suit, and she should have been wearing a white dress, holding real flowers. Their friends and family should have been there; his son should have been the ring-bearer. They should have been in love. Both of them.

Being married to her was something that he had thought about for a long time, and he felt robbed of that now. This whole experience would just be dismissed as a mistake, they would get an annulment, and go home to try and carry on as if nothing had happened. Even if they could manage that as he promised her they would, which struck him as being very unlikely, he would never get the chance to do this right. To marry her properly, the way he had wanted to. And that would drive him crazy.

Over the course of the evening, with the help of yet more alcohol, he began to have slightly more masochistic thoughts – this wouldn't have happened if one or both of them was sober. The only way that she would have _ever_ agreed to marry him was if she was drunk.

'What an ego boost', he thought to himself.

* * *

Temperance unlocked the door to her room, slung her bag down on the floor in front of her and ran her hand along the wall to try and find the light switch. As soon as she was out of the dark and squinting against the bright yellow light cast by the bulbs above her head, she slammed the door behind her and took her cell phone from her pocket, dialling a very familiar number.

"I did something stupid."

"_You didn't get a tattoo, did you?"_ Angela's familiar voice instantly comforted her, and she sank down onto the foot of the bed, smoothing the sheets out behind her.

"No. Something much worse."

"_Well don't keep me hanging! Come on, what was it?"_

"I got drunk and slept with Booth…" She paused as Angela let out a piercing squeal.

"_Thank _God_!"_

"But that's not the worst part. We got married."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and Temperance wondered if Angela was still there. Then finally, she spoke up again_. "And you're not happy about that?"_

"What? Of course not!"

"_Well…. Why not?__ I mean, I get that maybe it's kind of awkward right now, but you'll get past that and live happily ever after."_

"We're not staying married. We're getting an annulment."

"_What?! Sweetie, allow me to be the voice of reason for a moment: you two are _perfect_ for each other. And Booth. Loves. You. You're the only one who can't see that!"_

"No he doesn't." She stopped fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Does he?" She thought about their relationship over the past few years, trying to find something that should have clued her in to exactly how he felt about her. The only thing she could think of was the way he was talking to their suspect last night.

"_Yes. I'm sorry to have to be so blunt about it, but you needed to know.__ Does that change the way you feel?"_

"I know how I feel, it's him I'm worried about. He can't be in love with me, it has to just be a crush. Right?"

"_Trust me, sweetie, it's more than that. I've __seen the way he looks at you – he's like a puppy. But when you said you know how you feel… feel like sharing that with me?" _

"We can't stay married."

"_I meant how you feel about Booth."_

"Angela…" she whined, not wanted to go down this road, knowing all too well where it would lead.

"_Come on. You can tell me!"_

Temperance sighed. "I don't love him - he's one of my closest friends. I feel like I can tell him anything, and that he won't judge me. I miss him when we aren't working together. I feel safe with him. Obviously, he's attractive, but that's…"

"_And you think that's not__ what love is? Real love isn't Roman candle, Hollywood hot-pink love, it's someone having your back and being there for you when you need them. There's a big difference between love and lust…" _There was a vague muttering on the other end of the line, which sounded like Hodgins giving Angela some lab results. _"Listen, I have to go and do some work, but eventually your head will catch up to your heart, and I hope it's before you make the wrong decision. Call me later, OK?" _

The two women hung up and Temperance collapsed backwards onto the bed, completely drained from both the night before and the conversation she had just had.

A/N2 I may have borrowed Angela's little love speech from the John Mayer CD 'Where The Light Is'. It's from where he's talking to the crowd during 'Bold As Love', and I just thought it fit. Don't sue me!


	6. Gunning Down Romance

A/N I know, back for more already! I like updating on Wednesdays, so that's what I'm going to do – bonus for you guys, two chapters in a week! Well, yesterday I had kind of a mad writing thing going on, and I finished two whole chapters and started another. So now things are flowing through me like… flowing things. Yeah, anyway, you can bet now I've said that something will go wrong. Anyway, as always I love you for reviewing and continuing to review, my heart skips a beat when I see the messages in my email inbox! PS. I had to come back and do a swift little edit to one sentance, sorry about that!

She had stayed up most of the night thinking everything through, as well as most of the next day, and when she had agreed to meet Booth in the hotel restaurant for dinner that night, she still hadn't come to a conclusion about whether an annulment was really what she wanted. She had called Angela back numerous times, she had even called her attorney, but there was something keeping her from making a choice – she had lost count of the number of times she thought she was finally there, only to change her mind again seconds later. It really all came down to the fact that she didn't want to be married – she would feel the same if she was inexplicably hitched to any other man – and had nothing to do with the way she felt about Booth. How _did_ she feel about Booth? She still wasn't entirely sure, all she knew was that it made things more complicated. She felt _something_, but what that something was, was beyond her comprehension. For now, though, she thought she knew what she was doing. Sort of…

"I have bad news," she announced as she approached him at the table he had chosen.

"About the case? Don't tell me, the DNA isn't a match to Chandler? That's just great…"

"No, not about the case. About… us."

"Us? You're not pregnant are you? Because, good luck trying to pretend _that _didn't happen." He was joking, of course, but he couldn't help but be a little worried none the less. He was drunk, they both were, so how were they to know if they had had the presence of mind to use protection?

"God, I hope not."

"Gee, thanks."

She chose to ignore him and took a sip of his beer instead. "May I tell you the bad news now?"

"Are you done trying to embarrass me?"

"No one can hear me! And it's a little late to be shy now, don't you think? We _did_ have sex."

"I'm not discussing this with you right now…"

"I can't remember it, but rest assured, I'm sure it was good, if your aesthetic and physical appearance is anything to go on. Most of my sexual partners seem to have been pretty impressed with my performance, and I'm sure yours have too."

He couldn't believe she had just said that combination of things to him, in a public place no less. Once he had picked his jaw up off of the table, he managed an answer. "No complaints, not that it's any of your business."

"Again, you seem to have forgotten that we…"

"Shhh!" he hissed sharply as the waitress passed their table on the way to fill up another patron's coffee cup, smiling to herself at their bickering, thinking they were just like any other married couple – not knowing that they had been described that way for years, however this time it was more than an analogy. "What was the bad news?"

She scowled at him, picking up the menu and glancing at him over the top of it. "So you're ready to hear it now?"

"Yes, come on."

"We can only get an annulment in our state of residence. And since can't go home until we solve this case, we have to stay here," She shook her head and sighed. "Married."

Multiple responses to this news flashed through his brain, none of them really fit to be said aloud, so he just settled on saying nothing. He couldn't very well tell her that, to him, that didn't seem like the tragedy she was making it out to be. He cleared his throat and fiddled with his napkin. "So you've been researching?"

"I had a conversation with my lawyer, yes."

"So, until we go home, what do we do? I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but I don't think I can pretend nothing has changed."

"Well, we'll have to try, won't we?"

"Aha! You said 'we', that means you think it's weird too!"

She sat up straight in a 'don't mess with me' pose, but her eyes told him he was right. "Look, why don't we just talk about something else?"

But they didn't talk about anything, rather they just sat in silence, without making eye contact.

"So did your lawyer say anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like whether this means I get half of your vast fortune?" He smiled to show he was kidding, and was relieved to see her smile back.

"It's not the same as a divorce, we don't have any claim to each other's earnings or possessions."

"That's a real shame. Can I ask you something else?"

"I suppose so."

"And you have to answer. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Do you really not think that this…" he gestured between them, "is weird? And how are you going to pretend we never got married? Because I may need some hints on that."

"I can see how you may be finding it more difficult than I am – to you, marriage is a sacred act and has a lot to do with God, but I just don't see it that way. I'm sure if I were a religious person, I'd be having some kind of moral conflict, but to me, this is something fairly insignificant that's easily undone. Hence my conversation with my lawyer."

"Right."

"I'm sorry if that's hard for you to hear, or if that hurts you in some way, but that's just who I am, and how I feel. In a situation like this, it's best to be honest, right?" What was she saying? She knew that _neither_ of them was being honest – he loved her but wasn't saying anything about it, and she was having great difficulty making up her mind whether she felt the same or not.

"Honest… Absolutely."

"Would you like to talk about why you feel differently?"

"No." He quickly took a gulp off beer, trying to let her know that that was all he was going to say on the subject.

"I thought we were being honest."

"Alright, you want honest – fine."

A/N2 Dun dun dun! Cliffhanger for you good people. Complaints? Bring 'em on! Also – I had forgotten all about that sex comment way back at the beginning there. It seemed like a good idea at the time (i.e. when I wrote it about 2 months ago) but now it just makes me cringe! Hopefully, you enjoyed this chapter regardless of that!


	7. Wise Up

A/N Well, hi there! I'm a day early this week, but I just couldn't wait any longer to upload this chapter. It's probably my favourite (so far, but I know what happens next, so when that's up I'll tell you that one's my favourite!) and it's long, too. Anyway, I really hope you like this chapter, because I feel like it's the one you've all been waiting for (did I just give it away?!). Please continue to review, that make my heart smile!

It was finally all out in the open – that he was completely in love with her, the way she made him feel, and the fact that he wanted to stay married to her more than he had ever wanted anything before in his life.

He had told her all that, laid his soul completely bare, and she hadn't exactly responded the way he had hoped. Well, he _knew_ she wouldn't react the way he hoped, that was why it was called 'hope' after all, but he wasn't expecting her to get up and leave him sitting alone in the restaurant. He would have caught up with her sooner if he hadn't needed to throw down enough money to cover his beer so he didn't end up getting arrested to top off an already terrible evening, and by the time he was out of the restaurant, he saw the doors of the elevator closing with her inside.

He waited impatiently for another one, which seemed to take forever to arrive, and as soon as he got to the right floor he made a beeline for her room, pounding on her door and not caring who heard him.

"What the hell? Were you just going to leave me there?" he yelled as soon as she opened the door and he pushed his way inside.

"I… I don't know. Why did you have to tell me how you feel?!"

"You told me to be honest!"

"I didn't mean it literally!" She was really shouting now, and Booth couldn't help but feel a little fearful – he had seen her angry before, but this was something else entirely. "It would have been much easier if you _didn't_ tell me!"

"What is going on with you?"

"I don't want to be married to you – to anyone!"

"Oh yeah? Take a look at this and tell me you don't want to be married!"

He took her by the arm and sat her down on the edge of her bed, while he took the tape from the wedding chapel from his jacket pocket and put it into the VCR. He had already seen it once, just so he knew what was actually on the tape, so when it started up he walked to the other side of the room to stare out of the window. He didn't need to see it again.

The instantly recognisable sound of a drunken Temperance Brennan giggling echoed out of the speakers and into the quiet room.

On the screen, she stumbled forwards, further into the reception area, and Booth skilfully caught her, before she turned to the flapper girl with the camera.

"We're here to get married!" she slurred, still gripping Booth's shoulders

A different-looking Al Capone than the one they had previously conversed with came into the shot and handed them a sheet of paper to sign, before going to a closet and pulling out a small bouquet of fake roses. He dusted them off and handed them to the bride.

"You ain't brother and sister, are ya?" Booth laughed and replied that, no, they weren't, and Al asked another question as part of his not-so-vigorous screening program. "And yous ain't already married to anybody else?"

"Don't be silly, marriage is stupid!" Temperance replied, too drunk to comprehend the irony of the situation.

"Alright, well I can't see any reason why yous can't get hitched, so why don't you look into the camera there, doll face," he said to her, showing her where to look, "and tell your future grandkids why you're marrying this guy."

"You think I'd tell people we got married here?"

This time Al turned to Booth and clapped him on the back, making him sway on his feet. "She's a feisty one, eh? Why don't you just humour me, alright?"

Booth looked directly into the camera, trying to focus on it a few times before finally getting it right. "Hey there, future grandkids! Me and your grandma didn't always look so old, huh?! Um… What am I supposed to say again? Oh yeah – we're about to get married right now, so I've gotta go, but this is a note for me, in case I forget: Bones is marrying me! I didn't even have to persuade her, she was the one who said we should do it! Oh, man, Hodgins won't believe me, so I gotta get him to watch this…"

He continued rambling as Al announced over him that the wedding chapel was ready for them, and he took each of them by the arm and guided them through the doors.

* * *

"Please, turn it off."

He heard her whispered plea, so he shut off the TV and turned back towards her again. Seeing the look on her face made him suddenly feel guilty for forcing her to watch that tape without warning her what was on it.

"It was my idea?" she asked in a small voice, looking up at him but not able to meet his gaze.

"Looks that way."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I don't know." He thought about why he had the tape with him in the first place – when he slipped in into his pocket that morning, he told himself it was so no one would find it in room (although who he would need to hide it from was a mystery even to him – it wasn't like someone he knew would just happen to pop up in Vegas, let alone his hotel room). But maybe, subconsciously, he had intended to show it to her all along.

"I just assumed…"

"Me too."

"Are you angry?"

He sat down beside her and shook his head. He hadn't meant to be short with her. "No, I'm not angry. I'm just confused, I guess."

They both just stayed sitting on the bed for a while, unsure of what to say. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, that this was all her fault, and that she wished she could change it. He just wanted to tell her that he didn't blame her.

"I need to get some air. I'll be back later." With that, she got up and walked to the door without even glancing back. She needed to get away, and process what she had just seen. The truth was, she was embarrassed. She just couldn't face him now.

As she heard the door close behind her, she walked down the hallway and into an elevator as fast as her legs would take her. She hadn't realised it before, but her heart was pounding, and as she reached into her pocket for her cell phone, her hands shook. As she went to hit speed dial for Angela's number, she wondered why she couldn't read the numbers on the keypad, then discovered that she was crying – and once she knew that, she gave in to the tears and let them take over, until she was gasping for breath and spluttering. It was still unclear to her why she was crying, but she couldn't seem to stop. Even when the elevator doors opened and she pushed her way past confused tourists before trying to find her way out of the building, she was still crying and didn't care who could see her.

Finally out on the street, she didn't know where to go, so she picked a direction and walked. She walked until her feet begged her to stop – until she was away from all of the harsh lights of The Strip, and ended up in a tidy residential neighbourhood. Her cell phone was tucked into the pocket of her jeans, and she had fully intended to call Angela to ask her what to do, but now she wasn't sure – this was something she had to do by herself. But surely it couldn't hurt to just call her, even if it was just so she could bounce ideas off of someone?

She stood a little closer to a street-light and waited for the familiar voice to answer on the other end of the phone. "Did I wake you up?"

"_No, __Sweetie, I was just getting ready to go to bed. You sound funny, where are you?"_

She looked around, unaware whose fence she was leaning against, and wondered the exact same thing. "I'm not sure."

"_Are you crying?"_

"Oh… I guess I am." She hadn't realised that her full-blown bawling had reduced to a slow trickle of tears, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"_What happened? Did you tell Booth you didn't want to stay married to him? Was he upset?"_

"No, no, I haven't told him yet. Well… I'm not sure what I'm going to tell him."

"_Well, you have to let him down gently, I guess, but don't…"_

"No, I mean I haven't decided what I want yet."

"_Oh.__" _Angela replied, sounding a little perkier. _"Well, you know, that's the first step to admitting that you love him."_

"That's an odd kind of logic."

"_Think about it – if __you had zero romantic feelings for him whatsoever, your marriage would have been over before it even began. Even though you were both hammered, clearly there must have been a part of you that _wanted_ to marry him."_

"That actually makes sense – as much as I hate to say that about psychology – especially considering I was the one who had the genius idea of getting married in the first place."

"_What?"_

"Exactly. The whole wedding was being filmed for posterity, in case people who actually _chose_ to get married there want to be reminded of it. And it turns out, I was the one who 'proposed' to Booth. Not the other way around."

"_Well, I__ wasn't expecting that! I guess that means you _do_ love him!"_

"If you start talking about subconscious desires I am officially not your friend anymore."

"_Boy,__ that reminds me – Sweets is going to have a field day when you two get back! When will that be, exactly?"_

"When we solve the case."

"_You know, when I was trying to get a divorce, I became quite savvy about marital law. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe you can only get an annulment once you get back home. Sweetie, I say this as your friend, but I will do everything in my power to keep you in Vegas with your husband."_ Temperance sensed the joy her friend was getting from saying 'your husband', but she wasn't going to rise to it. It actually sounded… kind of nice. _"I mean it – I will lose evidence, or chain Hodgins and the interns up in Limbo, and I've got a few favours I can call in. Whatever it takes to stop you making the biggest mistake of your life."_

"We can't stay married just because you want us too. That makes no sense."

"_I know that, I just want you to think about it."_

"I haven't thought about anything else!"

"_Answer me honestly, Brennan. Do you want an annulment because you ended up married to Booth, or because you ended up married, period?"_

"I don't believe in marriage."

"_But you believe in him__ – you know he's never going to hurt you, and that he'll do anything in his power to make you happy, because he's Booth! That's as good a reason as any to change your opinion about being married to him."_

She had never been sure what a revelation would feel like, but as far as she was concerned, that was what she was feeling right now. She practically heard the 'click' in her mind as the pieces fell together. "I think you're right."

"_Thank God!"_

A/N2 So, um… hey! I've got one more chapter left to post (because, hello, Booth needs to know all this stuff!) but I'm not sure whether to write more after that. There's definitely more to be said (for example, them going back to DC – that's got to be a least one chapter worth of fun!) but would you guys want to read it? Do you want to know how they adapt to married life? Baby?! Let me know, and thanks for reading!


	8. Don't Stop Believin'

A/N Hey gang! I've decided, this chapter is my favourite now (told you I would!), but for some reason it feels like I wrote it ages ago, which is entirely untrue. If you only review one chapter of this story, I'd like it to be this one, because it was my birthday yesterday, and I am now Officially Old. Also, I would like to dedicate this chapter to anyone working in law enforcement, mainly because I set foot in a police station for the first time on Monday – I wasn't in trouble or anything, I had a job interview (and the interviewer's surname was Angel – CSI:NY fans, I'll wait while you chuckle half-heartedly – go ahead, I'll wait!), but I just want to say a big 'howdy' to you all! Yeah, I'm done rambling now…

After hanging up with Angela, Temperance caught her breath before dialling another familiar number. The phone barely rang once before the person on the other end picked up. "Booth…"

"_Bones? Thank God, I was so worried. You've been gone for hours!"_

She sighed, relieved that he didn't seem too upset with her still. "I-I think I'm lost. Can you come and pick me up?"

"_Of course. What street are you on?"_

"Um…" She looked around for a street-sign, spotting one on the opposite side of the road. "Cedaredge Crescent."

"_Alright, stay put. I'll be there in a bit."_

* * *

Booth eventually found Temperance on the residential street, and immediately asked her how she ended up so far away. She simply shrugged, and that was the last word either of them said. The car ride back to their hotel was both silent and uncomfortable, and still neither had said anything by the time they reached the elevators in the lobby.

"About before…" Temperance decided to break the silence while she still had a chance, before he went into his room and shut the door.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, OK? Goodnight."

He turned away from her, clearly still upset at everything that had transpired but nonetheless trying to hide it from her, and opened the door to his room. She followed him in and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. Really, I am."

"It's OK, I get it."

She thought to herself, 'I don't think you do', but before she could say it, and before she even knew what she was doing, her lips were pressed against his, her hands tangled in his hair. He kissed her back until she pulled away, unsure of what she had just done and worried about what he would think.

He backed away from her slowly, eyes wide and mouth wider, and she released her grip on the back of his head. "You _kissed_ me…"

"I'm aware of that."

"I don't understand."

She stared at him blankly, amazed that he wasn't getting what she was trying to convey to him. "I'm Temperance Brennan - I don't fail at anything, and I'm not going to start now. I want to make this – _us _– work."

"You do?"

"Yes, Booth! I get that I'm probably not your favourite person right now, but why is that so hard for you to understand?!"

"Um, where have you been these past few days? Do you not remember that big argument we had earlier this evening?" He pointed a finger at her and smirked. "_You_ don't believe in marriage – _you _don't want to be married to me, or anyone else, remember?"

She shrugged and simply replied, "I changed my mind."

"But why?"

"Do you need me to spell it out for you?"

"Yeah, actually, I think I do." He smirked again, wanting to torture her a little after what she'd put him through for all those days where he thought she might never speak to him again. "Well?"

"I can't quantify it or put it into words."

He took her hand in his and pulled her a little closer. "Maybe you could try?"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"A little."

"Well… I don't know what to tell you – I barely understand the way I feel, so how will you?" The look on his face told her she wasn't going to get out of explaining herself that easily. "Alright. I decided that maybe I should forget about all of the marriage business and instead focus on what it was exactly that I wanted."

"And what's that?"

"You."

He smiled that smile she was sure he reserved just for her, and chuckled. "Finally!"

"And, if being married makes you happy, then that's OK. Except…"

"Except?" He felt himself start to panic slightly; he knew what she was saying was just too good to be true.

A lone tear slipped down her cheek and he thought his heart might break in two. "What do we do? I mean, what are we going to tell people? How do we go from being friends to being _married_?" She shook her head and looked into his eyes. "I just don't know how this is going to work."

He inhaled sharply and smiled at her. "Me either. But we'll figure it out together."

A/N2 Altogether now… FINALLY! I hope I did this chapter justice, and I didn't build it up too much, only for you to be disappointed!


	9. You Can't Hurry Love

A/N My official author note will be at the end of this chapter, since I think we're all sick of hearing me ramble, right? Moving on…

Booth had very little trouble drifting off that night, being able to sleep peacefully and happily, but found himself waking far too early. Squinting at the digital clock beside him, he was dismayed to find that it read 3.12AM. He opened his eyes again slowly, allowing them to adjust to the darkness, and saw his wife, wide awake and presumably having been interrupted whilst watching him sleep. "Hey," he whispered, turning over to face her. "You OK?"

She nodded, placing a hand on his cheek. "I can't sleep."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Us."

He smiled broadly at her use of that word. "Are you starting to freak out about being together?"

"Honestly? A little bit."

"That's alright." He pulled her close and she leaned her head against her chest. "Let's talk about it."

"It's so… scary." She swatted at him playfully when he laughed at her. "Its 3AM, I'm not exactly feeling intellectual enough to come up with a better word right now."

"So you _do_ have an off switch!"

"Shut up."

He kissed the top of her head and then leaned back onto the pillow, shutting his eyes. "There's nothing to be scared of. Look, we're together, and right now that's enough for me. Nobody else has to know that we're married if that's what you want. And I'm not suggesting that we have a real wedding when we get back. So we can like any other normal couple."

"I highly doubt that. When do we ever do anything normal?"

"Good point."

She rubbed her eyes and stretched a little. "I don't know how to be this person. I don't know how to be married."

"I'm not asking you to be anything but yourself. Just don't worry, OK? We'll take it one day at a time, we won't get ahead of ourselves, and we'll be fine. It may take a while, but we'll get there eventually."

She sighed sleepily and pulled the sheets up to her chin. "OK. Goodnight, again."

"Goodnight. I love you."

Temperance's eyes popped open once more. Had she heard him correctly? She certainly wasn't going to ask him to repeat what he had said, so she couldn't be sure. She knew how he felt about her, because both he and Angela had made it clear to her, and she knew that he loved her. But when he had said it the first time, it was in a matter-of-fact way, as if he was letting her know. This time, he said it because he felt it, and meant it. To her, there was a huge difference. Perhaps he presumed this was just a natural progression of their relationship – they _were_ married, after all – but she didn't think she was ready for such a proclamation.

She turned her head to look at him, but he was already fast asleep.

* * *

For the second time since they arrived in Vegas, Temperance woke up the next morning beside her partner, and just like before, he was still dead to the world. At first, before she was really awake, she chastised herself for allowing herself to sleep with him again, but then she remembered what had transpired last night – she had decided to give being married to Booth a try.

She felt him stirring beside her, and heard him mumble into his pillow. "Good morning, Mrs Booth."

"I know we didn't get chance to discuss that last night, but I like to think you know me well enough by now to anticipate my feelings about taking your last name."

He lifted his head from the bed just long enough to answer her, and then flopped back down again. "Let me guess… Not going to happen?"

"You _do_ pay attention," she replied, smiling warmly at him.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"Just one other thing."

He had been joking, but he wasn't about to tell her that – he had enough trouble getting her to be honest with him about how she was feeling as it was. "Alright, shoot."

"When we get back home, I… I have to break up with someone."

He sat bolt upright and stared at her, before finally coming up with something to say by way of a response. "You have a boyfriend?!"

"No, not a boyfriend, _per se_, but I have been seeing someone."

"For how long?"

"Not long. A couple of weeks. But we only went out four or five times."

Four or five? For him, that was about as serious as most of his relationships got these days. He scratched his head and looked at her blankly. "Uh…"

"I didn't sleep with him, if that's what your wondering. I wanted to, but he's apparently quite religious. He's a nice man, though," she added by way of an explanation for her husband, who didn't seem to be at all comforted by it.

"That's unfortunate, because he's getting dumped as soon as we land in D.C."

She laughed at the absurdity of the situation – telling her new husband about the man who was waiting for her at home. She felt bad for Richard, but looked at Booth beside her in just his underwear and suddenly didn't feel _that_ bad. "I wasn't suggesting I'd keep dating him."

"So long as we're on the same page."

She didn't reply, instead rolling out of the bed and going into the bathroom. When she came out again, she shifted from one foot to the other and bit her lip, as if she was unsure of what to say.

"I'm going to go back to my room to get dressed, OK? Shall I meet you downstairs?"

"Oh, yeah, OK."

"I told you I didn't know how to do this."

"What?"

"I think it would be awkward for me to change in front of you."

He laughed, then winced at the look she was giving him – it was a look that could sour milk. "You don't strike me as the shy type."

She shrugged, looking around the room for the slippers she had left somewhere. "It's weird isn't it?"

"Well, as you love to keep reminding me, it's a little late for modesty. But, if it helps, I think it's kind of awkward, too."

"We'll get over that, right?"

He wanted to say 'I hope so', but he thought that wouldn't instil much confidence in her, so he kept that thought to himself. "Sure."

They stood looking at each other for a few seconds, neither one certain who should speak or move first. She wanted to believe him when he told her that things wouldn't be weird between them forever, but right now she wasn't feeling so confident. "So, I'm going to go…"

"Right… yes."

She blushed as she crossed the room and stepped out of the door, pulling it closed softly behind her. He couldn't help but be reminded of the 'walk of shame' that he had watched so many women do as they left his apartment the morning after the night before. Suddenly, he never thought he would be so thankful to be married.

A/N You kids are all awesome, you know that? Seriously, I had so much support after the – ahem – 'unpleasantness' and I just wanted to let you know that every one of you is now officially my friend. Anytime you need anything, shout in my direction and I'll be there – house painting, babysitting (but I don't do diapers – do you know what movie that's from?), hiding the bodies of your enemies, whatever you need. Anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was kind of short and dialogue-driven. There will be more within the next week. I pinky promise!


	10. The Lost Art Of Keeping A Secret

A/N Howdy hey you awesome people! Hope you're having a wonderful day! Firstly, thank you so much for the wonderful reviews and private messages, you are all so lovely! Currently in the works are 'The Big Everyone Finds Out™' chapters with bonus added drama, a Sweets special (in conjunction with Dr Google) and a fluffy jaunt with Parker. I hope that all sounds good to you!

Another week was spent in Vegas until the case was finally solved and the couple could go back to D.C – and back to reality. As usually happened with a particularly trying case, there was little evidence, and therefore little excitement, at the very beginning, but once they had a suspect in their sights time seemed to speed up and events transpired at a mile a minute. It was for this reason the crime-fighting duo had almost forgotten that they were married – they were working such long and tumultuous hours that the only time they spent together was also spent with suspects and 'Sin City Squints'.

The first time they were able to catch their breath and talk about anything other than solving their case was when they sat down on the plane when it came time for them to leave. Booth was sitting with his head against the small window of the plane, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Temperance next to him staring straight ahead and absently fiddling with an empty bag of peanuts.

"You nervous?" he asked in mock surprise, turning in his seat to face her. she kept her eyes on the seat in front, her brow furrowed.

"I'm afraid of what they're going to say. And I'd rather not tell them just how drunk we were."

"So we won't tell them."

She abandoned the plastic bag now, leaving it crumpled on her tray table, and turned to face him as much as the cramped seats would allow. "That we were drunk, or that we're married?"

"Whatever you want. But I think it would be sort of nice if no one else knew yet." Plus, he thought, it would be less likely to terrify her enough to leave him. "One thing at a time."

"But are we going to tell them we're together?"

"Well, we don't have to do it as soon as we land! We can wait a few days. I just hope Angela hasn't said anything to anyone."

"I don't think she'd do that. One of the fundamental anthropological tenets of friendship is keeping secrets. Although, if we're not telling anyone else yet, maybe you should take this off…" She pointed to the silver band on his hand, and he twisted it off his finger to put it in the pocket of his jeans.

"Huh," he grunted in vague amusement, looking down at his now bare knuckle. "You gave me a pretty cheap wedding ring; it's turned my finger green."

She looked at him apologetically, then frowned at him with a questioning look. "Why did you keep wearing it?"

"Honestly?" She looked at him and raised her eyebrows, silently conveying what they were both thinking – being honest with each other was a vital part of their new relationship, they had decided, so his question was really quite pointless. He smiled and looked away from her gaze. She was certain see saw his cheeks beginning to flush pink. "I hoped you'd come around."

She took his hand and entwined her fingers with his, finding that, maybe bizarrely, to be one of the most romantic things anyone had ever said to her. "I'm glad you didn't give up on me."

* * *

Temperance was definitely not looking forward to going back to work, thinking rather irrationally that her colleagues would be able to tell immediately that there was something different about her, and her relationship with Booth – she had been told numerous times over the years that she wasn't a particularly good liar.

So far, though, she had made it past security at both the entrance to the Jeffersonian and at the entrance to their department without anyone more than batting an eyelash at her, but she didn't exactly know those people. Once she made it through the doors of the lab, however, she could practically hear the whispers. She needed to get away from it, quickly.

"Morning, Angela," she said, walking into her friend's office and going over to the desk where she was working, fully expecting a hug after not seeing her for so long.

"Nice of you to join us," Angela said with a smile, but Temperance sensed from her tone, and the fact that she had stayed sat down, that there was something bothering her.

"I'm possibly way off, it's been known to happen, but you didn't seem entirely sincere when you just said that."

"I'm trying to be angry with you because I didn't get to be maid of honour, but I'm failing. I'm just way too excited! You're finally back to reality and now the real fun can start – I can't wait to see the look on everyone's faces!"

"About that… We're not telling anyone else yet. Did you say anything to the others?"

"No, I kept my mouth shut." She broke her friend's gaze, suddenly finding her work to be much more interesting, and mumbled something in the direction of her computer screen. "For the most part…"

"For the most part?"

"Yeah, but I might have said something to Hodgins."

"Like what?"

Angela took a deep breath, and Temperance wasn't sure whether it was because she had a lot to say, or because it was likely to make her angry. "For five years, he and I have had a kind of wager going. To cut a long story short, I bet him five hundred dollars that you and Booth would get together within ten years of starting to work together, and he said that it would take _way_ more than ten years. So I win! And I may have said to him that when you got back he would owe me money…"

"Do you think he can keep a secret?"

"You mean keep a secret better than I can?"

"Yes."

* * *

The day passed slowly, with Temperance constantly looking over her shoulder. She wasn't working on an actual case right now, just catching up on paperwork that she hadn't been able to complete in Las Vegas, so thankfully she hadn't seen much of Booth – she wasn't sure how to act around him at home, let alone at work, in front of other people.

Once the paperwork was finished, she couldn't wait to get out of the Jeffersonian and away from everyone else. Angela had seemed to pick up on this, and took great joy in interrogating her friend about how she would be spending the rest of her evening.

"Boy, you just can't wait to get out of here, can you? I wonder why that might be. Oh, might it have something to do with the man waiting at home for you?"

"I live alone, Angela. There's no one else there."

"But will you and 'hubby' be moving in together? Like the happy little family we all want you to be?"

"We discussed it, and we decided that now isn't really the right time for us to live together."

"What?!"

"I just renewed the lease on my apartment, and Booth paid 6 months rent up front for his, so we don't really have a choice. Our proposed solution is that we spend alternate nights at the other's place, and see how that works out."

"I gotta tell you, Sweetie, that wasn't the kind of news I was expecting. Talk about anti-climactic…"

"Well, let me put it to you this way – would you move in with a man you had been dating for a week? We may be married, but that doesn't mean that we're ready for a house just yet."

"I suppose, but it's not like you two met in a bar and got married the same night – you've been dancing around each other for years now!"

"I don't know what that means."

"It means I can't believe you're holding out on me!" She raised her hands in mock exasperation. "Do you know how long we've been waiting for you both to finally admit what you really want? I get that you don't want to move too fast, but don't you think you've spent too much time going slow? You've got to go fast to make up for lost time!"

A/N2 Can I get an amen?! I had such a hard time with that ending. I started a new job this week, and today was my first full day, so I kind of didn't get time to nail the end. I was convinced it needed another line after that, but I just couldn't think of anything. So, maybe we could have a contest! You tell me what you think should come after that, and I'll put it in and give you the credit. Deal?


	11. Call Me On Your Way Back Home

A/N First, a small order of business – I'm shifting my updating schedule, either to the end of the week or the weekend (which, by the way, aren't the same thing), it will probably vary. This pesky new job (finance administration, which is _just_ as exciting as it sounds…) just doesn't leave me with the time to write that I had before. So it may even be every other weekend that I update, I just wanted to give you all a heads up. On that note, thank you so much for the reviews for the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one! Also, I really hope you don't think act three is drama for drama's sake. I am going somewhere with it, trust me! You'll see, you'll all see!

Every other night when they arrived back at whoever's home they were staying at that night, they had been so exhausted, either because they were still adjusting to the time difference or because they were working so hard to catch up on paperwork as well as on the new case they had been assigned to, that they went straight to bed. Tonight they were home relatively early, and had picked up some Chinese food, before going back to Temperance's apartment for the evening.

"So… What now?" she asked as they set the food onto the coffee table in the living room. They never usually bothered with plates or cutlery, and instead ate from the cartons using the free chopsticks that came with the food.

Booth looked around nonchalantly and shrugged. "We could watch a movie?"

"OK. Do you have a preference?"

"No, whatever you want is fine."

She picked a DVD she hadn't had chance to watch yet, and put it in the machine, while Booth got a couple of beers from the fridge. They both went to take a seat and reached the lone armchair at the same time.

"Sorry. Go ahead," Booth said, stepping to the side and offering her the seat.

"No, you were here first," Temperance replied.

"But that's where you always sit. Honestly, I think I'd rather sit on the sofa anyway."

"Or we could both sit on the sofa?"

"That would work." He smiled and sat down, patting the seat beside him. She took it and leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. She could definitely see herself getting used to this. Yes, their relationship was often awkward at the moment, but together they easily overcame every bump in the road.

* * *

Booth walked into his wife's office to find her sitting at her desk, typing furiously and wearing her librarian glasses. She didn't notice him until he pulled the glass door shut behind him, clearing his throat as he did so.

"I'm heading out to pick up Ray Mendoza. Any developments I need to know first?"

"Just that he's stupid. He practically led us to the second body."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, sitting down in the chair opposite her desk. He went to pick up one of the sheets of paper that was littered across her work area, and she swatted his hand away without breaking her concentration on the computer in front of her.

"Are you still coming over tonight?"

"Of course. I wouldn't pass up an evening with you."

She blushed and he noticed the steady rhythm of her fingers tapping away at the keys halt momentarily. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me every time I pay you a compliment."

"Of course I do, it's a social convention."

"Since when are you conventional?"

She looked right at him now, eyes narrowed. "I got married, didn't I?"

He flashed her that 'only-for-her' smile and she felt herself blush again slightly. "And for that I thank God everyday."

She rolled her eyes and looked at him over the top of her computer screen. "I don't think you have time to get into a philosophical debate with me right now."

"Alright." He closed the file and stood up, straightening his tie. "I gotta go catch a bad guy."

"Be careful."

"I always am," he replied, glancing around for anybody who might be passing by, before kissing her goodbye. "See you later."

* * *

Angela hated working late. She usually ended up alone, or at least one of very few people, left alone in their department with Steve, a security guard with a reputation for _trying_ to work his way through all of the women at the Jeffersonian, with very little success. And of course, working later meant getting home later, and she hated coming back to a dark, cold apartment. Tonight, though, it didn't seem like she was alone, as she spotted a light coming from her best friend's office.

"You're still here? You haven't worked late since you got back from Vegas." Angela gave her a knowing smile and a wink.

"Crap," Temperance replied, looking down at her watch. "I was supposed to be home an hour ago. Booth is probably worried."

"You mean he hasn't called? That doesn't sound like him."

"I should probably call him." She took her phone out of her pocket and hit speed dial. Uncharacteristically, there was no answer on the other end of the line for several rings, when finally an unfamiliar male voice picked up.

"_Hello?"_

"Hello?"

"_Hello?"_

"Yes, hello, we did that already…"

"_Sorry."_

"Who is this?"

"_This is Agent Brent Peterson, who is this?"_

"This is Doctor Temperance Brennan, Agent Booth's…" She stumbled momentarily and looked to Angela for help. "Partner. May I speak to him please?"

"_Just a moment, please."_ She assumed he had covered the mouth-piece of the phone, because everything she could hear on the other end of the conversation was muffled. She was sure there was at least one other person that Agent Peterson was talking with, and she definitely heard her name being said in response to something the other person, or people, had said. Then, his voice became clear again and he started talking to her. _"Doctor Brennan?"_

"Yes," she replied, becoming agitated at being kept waiting by his unnecessary questions.

"_I'm afraid I have some bad news…"_

A/N2 So, my thoughts on this chapter: I got some awesomely encouraging private messages and reviews last time, one of them from Nyre The Black Rose (hey!) who gave me some ideas for fun awkwardness. I didn't want to just take her ideas, because as she said in her review, she is doing something similar right now, so I just took one of them as a jumping off point for my little awkwardness vignette at the beginning. Thanks for the awesome ideas, all of you!

P.S. The next chapter is my new favourite. Why? Because certain people find out about certain other people having a certain relationship. Certainly.


	12. Alive

A/N Hey kids! Before I bore you all with my incessant author note ramblings, lets just all say a silent prayer of thanks for the return of new Bones to the UK last night – if you missed it, we're not friends anymore, okay? In this, my new favourite chapter, there are slight spoilers for S3E15, but it's subtle. Blink and you'll miss it. I realise that doesn't really make sense in this context, but just go with it, OK? Enjoy!

A short, plump doctor with a mop of wiry red hair came through the doors and they swung shut behind him, almost clipping him on the backside. He jumped forward slightly at this, and cleared his throat to garner the attention of the small group alternately pacing the floor and sitting on chairs in the waiting area. "Are you here for Agent Booth?"

"What's going on? Is he going to be OK?" Cam asked, her voice getting heard above the collective clamour of the rest of the Squints as they quickly crowded around him. Everyone quietened down to hear what he had to say, but the noise kept going in Temperance's head – ever since she had heard Agent Peterson say the word 'shot', her mind had been full of what seemed like a million thoughts at once. Reactions, scenarios and a plethora of curse-words seemed to be on a constant loop. Even now, when she was trying to hear what the doctor was telling them, he was partially drowned out by the cacophony inside her brain.

"I'm sorry, I can only share that information with Agent Booth's next of kin." He looked down at the chart in his hands, then back up again. "Now, which one of you is Doctor Brennan?"

She stepped forward out of the small crowd and looked at the doctor. "I am."

"If you could come with me please?" The two of them walked down the short hallway and into a side room. Everyone else was left looking at each other in confusion.

"Since when is Brennan his next of kin?" Hodgins asked eventually, and all eyes fell on Sweets, who looked a little frightened at them suddenly turning on him.

"How should I know?! It's not department policy to have your partner named as your emergency contact. And it doesn't actually make sense that she would be – if an agent is injured on the job, it's more than likely that their partner will be there already, and possibly injured themselves."

"So why would he do it? Surely he knows he'd be better off putting someone else down?" Cam looked to Sweets for reassurance, but was interrupted by Hodgins.

"Maybe after what happened after that whole 'thought he was dead but didn't get the memo' debacle, he thought it'd be a good idea? You know, so no one forgot to keep her in the loop this time…" He scowled at Sweets with an air of distrust, ever the conspiracy theorist.

They all turned to Angela, suddenly aware that she was keeping very quiet while they were wracking their brains. This time, it was her turn to feel everyone's stare burning into her, but she didn't know what to say to convince them that she was just as clueless as everyone else. "What?" she asked, staring back at them all.

Cam didn't relent and kept her eyes narrowed straight ahead of her. "She's your best friend."

"She didn't put herself down on that stupid form, though, did she?" That was all she had, her master plan of deception, and she could see that none of them were buying her innocent act.

"Wait a minute…" Angela snapped her head round to look at Hodgins, who seemed to be on the verge of a breakthrough – she had seen that look on his face all too many times at work – it was his 'King of the Lab' look. She tried to stare him down, and convey with her eyes that whatever he was putting together in his mind was wrong and he was seriously going to regret it, but he didn't seem to be paying attention; he was too busy being triumphant that he was onto something. Stupid Hodgins… "The bet!"

"What?" Cam piped up, her gaze darting between Angela and Hodgins, who was now looking way too excited for someone standing in the ICU waiting to find out about the condition of their friend. He spoke rapidly, pointing his finger at Angela.

"When they were working in Nevada, _you_ said that when they got back, I owed you big money. I didn't know what you meant, but _now_ it all makes sense!"

"Shut up, Jack! I mean it…"

"They're together, aren't they? They finally did it!"

There was a collective gasp, and Angela was sure her hair and clothes ruffled slightly as they all inhaled sharply. She had two choices now – 'fess up and face the newlyweds' wrath later, or deny having any knowledge for all she was worth and hope that they bought her lies.

"Should we take your silence as a 'yes'?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Yes. It's true." Well, what they didn't know couldn't heart them, could it? She didn't _have_ to tell them the rest of the story…

* * *

The doctor came back out into the waiting area a short time later, and once again, everyone jumped up to gather round him. Every one of the group towered over him, but none of them had ever felt so small and helpless in their lives. After all, he held power over them right now – he decided when they could finally see Booth.

"Agent Booth is awake and lucid. He's drowsy from the medication, but it also appears that his sense of humour has been unaffected. You may see him now."

There was a collective sigh of relief, and the group all turned to Temperance, who herself turned back towards Cam. She had returned to the group shortly after she had left with the doctor, but no one had said anything to her about the recent revelations, leaving her mostly to herself.

"You can go in first."

"No, really, I think you should."

"Cam, please, I'm not ready to go in there yet."

Cam nodded in response, a little taken aback, and followed the doctor out of the waiting area. Hodgins suggested that he and Sweets went to get coffee for the others, and went down the hall to find a vending machine, leaving Angela and Temperance sitting alone on the row of hard plastic chairs.

"Sweetie, what do you mean you're not ready?"

"I think it would be wise to let my heart rate return to normal and this nauseous feeling to subside before I see him."

"You're really freaked out by this, aren't you?"

"You aren't?!"

"Well, of course I am, but I'm not married to the guy. I can only begin to imagine how you must be feeling. But you heard the doctor – he's awake, he's cracking jokes with the nurses. He's OK. I'm sure he'll be even better once he sees you."

Temperance released the breath she wasn't aware she had been holding. She was sure she'd feel better once she saw him, too.

* * *

Cam stepped into Booth's room and pulled the door closed softly behind her. He was lying in the bed with the sheet pulled up to his chin, his right arm draped over his eyes to keep out the light from the lamp beside him. He heard her footsteps as she came closer and he peeked out at her.

"Oh. Hey, Cam."

"Not who you were expecting?" she asked with a slight smirk, which, even in his injured state, Booth picked up on.

"You could say that."

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, great. Never better!" Almost as soon as he had said that, he felt a little guilty for it – she was only trying to be a good friend, after all. "Sorry. I'm fine, just tired. Hence the crankiness."

Cam nodded in recognition of this and sat down in the chair beside the bed. Neither said anything for a while, until she suddenly drew in a breath and blurted out, "We know, Booth."

"Know what?"

"You know… We _know_…" she replied, her eyes going wide as she tried to get across her message.

"_Know_ what?" he mimicked, his head feeling too fuzzy to play games.

"About you and Brennan."

He sighed and rubbed a hand over the day's worth of stubble on his chin. So much for keeping it to themselves. Was that anger her saw in Cam's eyes? Jealousy? No, that couldn't be right – that was the morphine talking. He sighed again and shut his eyes tightly. "Let me guess – Angela?"

"Well, she only confirmed it after we all guessed. But if you hadn't put Brennan as your next of kin, we wouldn't have suspected anything."

"Well you had to find out sometime. And you thought I was afraid of commitment!"

"So it's serious?"

He adjusted his pillow and attempted to roll onto his side. He was starting to feel drowsy again, and just wanted to go back to sleep. "If it isn't, we may have a problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, you know we're married and that's not going to change in the next couple of hours, so can we discuss it later? I can barely keep my eyes open over here."

"Wait… _Married_?"

He didn't think he'd ever seen anything as amusing as Cam's face at this very moment. "I thought you said you knew!"

"That you were together, not that you were _together_! Since when?"

"It's a long story," he replied, hoping she'd get the hint that he really didn't feel like talking and leave him alone.

"Alright, I get it. But don't think this conversation ends here – I want to know what the hell happened to both of you." She went to leave, but turned back to face him with a questioning look on her face. "Can I just ask one thing before I go?"

"I guess."

"Were copious amounts of alcohol involved?"

Booth laughed and shook his head. "Goodbye, Cam."

* * *

Temperance was the last one in to Booth's room, and by the time her turn came she assumed that he would have fallen asleep. She should have realised that that wouldn't be the case. After all, it was his job not to rest until everything was resolved. As she crept into his room, trying her best not to wake him, she found that he was wide awake and looking at her with amusement. Apparently she didn't look very graceful when she was tip-toeing.

"Hey, babe."

"I thought we talked about pet names, and we agreed that 'babe' was _not_ a good one?"

"Sorry, Pookie," he replied, barely able to keep the laughter out of his voice, despite the burning feeling that shot through his chest when he did so.

"If you weren't already in the hospital, I'd put you there."

She crossed the room and sat in the uncomfortable brown chair beside the bed. She hadn't been sure what to expect when she came in, but she was relieved to see he was alright, and reasonably perky considering his condition. She thought back to all the times they had been in this position before – him, injured and looking surprisingly small tucked up in the hospital bed; her, the loyal partner who came away from the event relatively unscathed. She wondered how many times they had sat like this, and it had been her fault, whether he was trying to protect her or she had simply put him in danger by insisting on going into the field with him. He cleared his throat loudly and she looked up to see him smiling at her.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming in."

"I was scared. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Cam sure had a lot to say, though…"

"Angela said they figured it out. Thankfully they didn't say anything to me – I'm not sure I'm in the mood for their questions."

"So much for keeping it to ourselves for a while, huh?"

"I think we did quite well making it three weeks without giving it all away. It was nice while it lasted, though."

"I guess the honeymoon is over." He patted a space on the bed beside him and she got up from the chair to take it.

"I'm glad you're OK. I've only just got used to being a wife; I don't think I'm ready to be a widow quite yet."

"And I only just convinced you to stay with me – trust me, I'm not going anywhere. I'm still here."

"You are this time – what if the bullet had hit you half a centimetre to the left? Did the doctor explain to you how close you came to dying?"

"Yes, and I feel very lucky right now. I'm fine."

She didn't seem entirely satisfied with his answer and released his hand from her grip. "You were shot. I wouldn't think any less of you for _not_ being fine."

"I know that. But, aside from the pain, I'm OK. It's not like I've never been shot before!"

"It worries me that you're being so blasé about it."

"I'm sorry." He took her hand again and pulled her closer to him, forgetting all about the pain shooting through his arm. "I didn't mean to scare you."

They stayed that way for a few minutes. His mind was racing with things that he wanted to tell her while he still had the chance, but that he knew would push her away. Her mind was racing with things she wanted to say, but that she wasn't sure she felt. They both seemed to decide that, for now, it would be better to say nothing at all.

"When did you put me down as your next of kin?" she asked suddenly, almost making him jump slightly.

"About four weeks ago."

She shook her head, and corrected him. "We got home _three_ weeks ago."

"Yes, we did."

It took her a second to understand what he meant by that, and once she did she sighed softly. "Were you going to tell me?"

"Eventually," he replied, not meeting her eyes.

"Well a little warning would have been nice. I could have come up with a cover story."

"Now you know for the next time I'm stuck in here."

"Don't even joke about that," she said with a scowl, smacking his good arm.

A/N2 A note about chapter titles – in case you have yet to notice, they are all song titles. This should clue you in to my vast and eclectic musical tastes. From Iron Maiden and AC/DC to Dusty Springfield and Savage Garden (just FYI, this chapter is named after my favourite song of all time, which is a Pearl Jam song). I try to tie them in to what's going on in the chapter, but that's not always possible or obvious. If I'm totally honest, naming the chapters is possibly my favourite part. Also my favourite part – reviews! Thank you so much for your amazing support and feedback. I'll leave you with my final thought, Jerry Springer style – I just need 4 more reviews to make this officially my Best Story Ever. So if you wanna contribute to that… Well, I'll leave that to you!


	13. I Don't Need No Doctor

A/N I think this chapter is cool. I got to wear my psychologist's hat! I find psychology fascinating, I studied it for two years in school, but that doesn't mean I know what I'm talking about. So, a lot of this chapter is courtesy of Dr Google, Professor Wikipedia PhD, and an old textbook that I forgot to return; the rest is made up by yours truly. A testament to my writing skills is that some of it actually makes sense (it does to me anyway!). If any of you actually studied psychology to a higher level than I did, or do it for a living, I can only apologize. Also, as you're about to find out, I become far less eloquent when I write about Booth. Why is that? I _also_ think this chapter is cool because I love Sweets, and there aren't enough Sweets stories on here – I don't normally pimp out other authors (yeah, I said it), but go check out a story called 'Hey, Soul Sister' by PastTheStarsAndBoulevards, it's awesome and it's about Sweets! If you go read it, I'll do your bidding for a week… A whole week!

After being discharged from the hospital, Booth was ordered by his bosses at the FBI to report to Sweets for a psychological evaluation immediately. Well, two weeks after the fact was almost as good as immediately, right? He was still on modified assignment, which, Booth was annoyed to learn, meant staying at home and keeping out of trouble – and there was no way he was going to schlep himself across the city on _public transport _to the place he should have been working, and the whole time Sweets tried to get inside his head, all he would be thinking was how much he was itching to get back to work. So really, it was for his own benefit that he wait a _little_ longer than he should have to have his head shrunk.

And now, here he was, sitting on the sofa in Sweets' office, a little bemused as to why there weren't actually talking, just looking at each other with a vague air of trepidation. Well, Sweets was looking at him, while Booth was trying to look anywhere but at him, as if looking into his eyes would give the impression that he needed to be kept off work for another two weeks. He couldn't take it much longer.

"Do I have something on my face, Sweets, or are your wondering how someone who was shot can still look so good?"

"It's very interesting you would say that," he replied, slowly nodding his head.

"No, it's not. It was a joke," he sighed angrily, and glanced out of the window. "If Bones was here, she would have laughed."

"It's very interesting that you would bring her up in a session that is entirely about _you_."

"Oh, here we go. Look, you've obviously got some theory you're dying to tell _someone_ about, but no one cares, so since I'm here and neither of us are talking, why don't you just go ahead and tell _me_."

"It sounds like you're eager to hear what I have to say."

Booth sighed angrily and rolled his eyes. "Just talk."

Sweets paused for a moment before launching into what he was dying to say. "Well, honestly, and I say this both as a psychologist and a friend, I just wonder what the hell took you both so long! Seriously, everyone here knows that there was this huge unspoken thing between you, the elephant in the room if you like, and a lot of us thought you would have given in to it much sooner. I admire your tenacity, by the way."

"Thanks."

"Anyway, from a psychological standpoint, the liquor was what you both needed to lose your inhibitions and admit your true feelings. I gotta say though, I'm a little surprised that your feelings um… _manifested_ themselves… in such an extreme way, but on some level you must know that you would have stopped it if it wasn't really what you wanted to do?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Let me ask you something." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "If I had asked you, on your own and completely off the record, before you went to Las Vegas, whether you wanted to marry Doctor Brennan, what would you have said?"

"I would have said 'heck no'… But if you really pushed me, I would have said 'of course, but eventually'. It would have been nice to have dated her first, but I one-hundred percent do not regret what we did."

"That's good."

The two of them nodded for a few moments in mutual understanding, and then Booth looked at Sweets from the corner of his eye.

"Got any advice?"

He laughed incredulously. "You're asking me? The unmarried, 'Doogie Howser' psychologist who you think knows nothing about 'adult' relationships?"

Booth looked at him with one eyebrow raised and simply responded, "Yeah."

Sweets took a deep breath, and let it out again loudly. "We're going to go fast, so try to keep up."

"Should I take notes?"

"It might be a good idea," he replied, tossing him a yellow notepad that he kept on the table beside his armchair – although, usually, it was him who was using it.

"OK, shoot."

"The first thing is a major psychological technique that is going to help you more than you realize at this point – you have to always be one step ahead of her, anticipating what she's really thinking before she even knows it herself. It may sound like emotional blackmail, but you won't feel that way when you're in the middle of an argument and she's just not backing down…" His expression darkened slightly and Booth was sure he saw a scowl flash in his eyes – Sweets must have been talking about a recent encounter with Daisy. "Think about her behavior and try to pinpoint what she wants from you. If she's always asking you whether her pants make her look fat, maybe she really wants more positive attention and approval from you – nothing a romantic dinner and a few comments about how pretty she looks wouldn't fix. If she talks constantly, perhaps responding more attentively every now and then would reduce her need to fill a silent void."

"Genius… That's genius!"

"Another one. Reflect on how your parents' marriages – both yours and hers – affected both of your feelings on what a marriage should or should not be like. Differences between these two perceptions can cause disharmony. A husband whose father was king of the castle might need to learn how to treat a wife who grew up with more modern-thinking parents as an equal, as for example. You have a traditional view of the family unit, where the wife runs the house while the husband runs the family. Her experience was quite different, and her family broke down during her teenage years, a time when ideas about how such relationships should be are being formed. Therefore, she has no real example to lead off from – no one was around to show her how a normal marriage is supposed to be."

"Well, that explains a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me put it this way – once she sobered up, she wasn't exactly pleased at how we had spent the evening. For a long time I thought she was going to divorce me right then and there."

"Well, I know that this probably won't be what you want to hear, but you should use therapy or counseling to aid communication between you both, to get a better understanding of what your spouse wants from your marriage, since you didn't know beforehand. Am I right in assuming that you didn't discuss the finer details of married life before you signed your life away?" he asked with a smirk, but Booth just scowled at him. "I'd be happy to help you both with that."

"I shouldn't be needing your help with this. We should have fallen in love and talked about getting married, not the other way around. It should be easier than this."

"For what it's worth, the hard part is over – if she didn't want to marry you, she wouldn't have."

"Yeah, I still can't believe it myself. I'm just waiting for her to change her mind and call in the divorce lawyers. You don't think she'll do that, do you?"

"Sociologists believe that marriage is highly valued in society, partly due to the image the media presents of marriage as based on romance and happiness. Status, basically. People now demand more from marriage and if it does not live up to the ideal they hold then they will get divorced and try again – hence the growing number of remarriages. About seventy percent of divorces are initiated by women, since they are more likely to be independent in this day and age - with a good education, fewer children and a job. Sound like someone you know?" He stretched his legs and recrossed them. "If they are unhappy in a marriage it is easier for them to leave and start again."

"Well that's not what I wanted to hear."

"You said it yourself – you're _waiting_ for her to call the divorce lawyers. If she was going to do that, she would have done it by now."

Booth nodded slowly and scribbled something down on the note pad. "And… and what about Parker? I mean, he loves Bones, he thinks she's cooler than _me_, but I don't know how cool he'll think it is that I got married without telling him!"

"Well, he knows that you and his mom aren't together, and that could have a detrimental affect on the way he interacts with others in the future." He saw the look on Booth's face, and quickly continued. "It would be good for your son to see that a marriage can work, and will therefore instill this in him for his own future relationships. Just be sure not to tell him that the reason you didn't marry his mother was that she wasn't the right woman for you – avoid comparisons between her and your new wife."

"Right, got it. Except…"

"What?"

"I'm not sure when to tell him. I mean, I don't want to drop this bombshell on him, and then find that she's changed her mind. That would totally confuse him!"

"So make sure she's on the same page as you."

"And how do you propose I do that? She's not exactly liberal when it comes to talking about her feelings."

"You'll just have to drag it out of her," Sweets replied with a wink.

A/N2 I have a question for y'all, gentle readers – baby or no baby? I know I asked before, but I got a mixed response. I want your honest opinion and the reason behind it. Do you think it's something that seems natural in the course of this story, or is it a bit trite and forced? See, I had planned it that a baby _would_ happen, but since then I've kind of changed my mind. I have a back-up idea that can encompass both a yes or no response from you guys, but any feedback you can give me would rock my world :D I love you guys!


	14. Love Is Hell

A/N Wow, you guys (although I think the majority of fanfiction writers are female, correct me if I'm wrong) are all INCREDIBLE! I love you all! This chapter is deeper than… a deep thing. See, writing this has used up my allotted creativeness and thinking power for the next couple of weeks, so that's as good an analogy as you're going to get. This chapter's title breaks the mold slightly, as it isn't named for a particular song, but rather an entire album by Ryan (not Bryan) Adams. If you haven't heard of him, I urge you to check him out, because he is amazing. Just like you!

She was barely awake, and barely dressed, pottering around his kitchen attempting to make breakfast while he was getting ready to leave for work. For her, this was a rare day off, and she wanted to make the most of it. That usually meant sleeping a little later than she normally did, but this morning he had woken her up as he rummaged through his drawers. He seemed preoccupied with something, but she knew when he was like that that he didn't want to talk about what was bothering him.

He came out of the bedroom, pulling on his suit jacket, and gratefully took the cup of coffee that she was holding out to him. Taking a long sip, he picked up his cell phone from the kitchen counter and went to kiss her goodbye.

"I'll see you later tonight. Don't forget, I have Parker this weekend."

"Have you told him yet? About us?"

"No." He paused and seemed to struggle with what he was about to say next. "And I won't until I know for sure that you're in this for the long haul. So while I'm out I want you to think about that, OK?"

She whipped round to face him, stunned at what he had just said to her. "What?"

"Don't act like you didn't hear me!" he called over his shoulder as he moved down the hallway.

Before she could answer him, preferably with something witty, he was out the door.

She assumed that he wanted to hear her say that they would be together forever – even though, rationally speaking, neither of them could possibly know that for sure. It was impossible to predict where they would be in ten minutes, let alone ten years, or longer. Of course, she could tell him whatever it was that he wanted to hear, but she had been led to believe that lies were not the best foundation on which to build a relationship. Although, they wouldn't be lies, per se, just reassurances.

Or maybe he would settle for knowing how she felt about him? Surely once he knew that, he'd realize that she wasn't going anywhere.

How _did_ she feel?

This was a question she had never really pondered before – of course, she knew how she felt, but it was ineffable – there was a definite difference between recognising those emotions and being able to describe them. Even at her most eloquent, it seemed impossible to her that she would ever be able to comprehend and express the way she felt about her partner. And she was a writer, for crying out loud! It was her job to articulate sentiments such as love.

She halted her train of thought and sat bolt upright. Was it love? Further to the point, what exactly _was_ love?

It was probably a word she used all too often – to describe a particularly enjoyable meal or a favourite outfit – without any thought to the implications. She was pretty confident that the way she felt about him was different to the way she felt about cheesecake.

As far as she knew, she had never been in love before. She had loved, of course – her parents, her brother, even her friends – but that was different. Her feelings for Booth were incomparable to the way she felt about her father or Angela. It was an entirely different entity.

She knew that he loved her, but she couldn't very well ask him to describe exactly how he felt so she could determine if she felt the same. Only she could know if she was in love or not. But that just brought her back to the beginning of her sad little loop of frustration. How could she know if she was in love, if she couldn't figure out what love was?

She tried to be logical, working through this puzzle like she would a case at work, like trying to identify a murder weapon – if you didn't know what it was outright, then you ruled out everything that it couldn't be. Maybe her feelings could be clarified by her determining how she _didn't_ feel. She definitely didn't hate Booth. She liked him, of course she did – she _more than_ liked him. She cared for him, but that alone didn't equate to love.

Scientifically, she knew love really just boiled down to a natural cascade of chemicals and hormones. Which, in itself, made loving someone a natural bodily function, just like breathing or sweating – so why did people make such a big deal of being in love?

Her heart was just a muscle, after all – muscles didn't determine feelings or emotions, so to her the notion of her heart being to key to loving someone was ridiculous. And besides, when she saw him or her gave her a knee-weakening smile, those feelings weren't felt in her chest, but in the pit of her stomach when it seemed to do somersaults and tie itself in knots, or in her mind when it raced with anticipation. In fact, the only thing he seemed to do to her heart was make it race. She had never had someone consume her in so many areas of her life; her work, her home life and her imagination. It had been that way even before they were married – there were times when she would come home from a long day at work and just wouldn't be able to shake him from her mind, and she had never really understood why. She began trying to find any excuse to get him to stay at the Jeffersonian a little longer at the end of the day, or to spend time with him outside of work. During the minimal amount of time that she allowed herself to think about what the hell she was doing, she told herself it was just because she valued their friendship – she trusted him with her life everyday, and he did the same with her. She shared far more of a bond with him than with Angela in some respects. But deep down, when she sat at home alone or worked well into the night and could only think of one thing, she realized that what she felt for him was more than friendship.

Then it dawned on her as she sat alone in his living room, on his uncomfortable couch, wearing one of his t-shirts. She had loved him all along and didn't even realise it.

"Shit," she said softly, although it seemed to echo in the silent room. Getting up slowly, she walked back into the bedroom and retrieved her cell phone from the nightstand. She had two things she needed to do – make a call and send a text – but she wasn't sure which should come first. Sighing angrily at the choice she made, she dialed the number and perched on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to pick up.

_"Hello?"_

"Dad... I need your help."

* * *

Booth stepped into an elevator at the Jeffersonian, pressing the 'lobby' button and waiting for the doors to close. Just as they were about to, a hand shot in between them and pried them open again. Said hands belonged to Cam, who scowled at Booth as she stepped in beside him.

"Did you not hear me yelling 'hold the elevator'?"

"No, sorry," he mumbled.

She shook her head and turned on the fake cheer. "Well, good morning, Booth! How's Mrs. Booth?"

"Very funny."

"Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!"

"I've got a meeting with Cullen in half an hour. He doesn't know that me and Bones are married yet, but I guess I'm going to have to tell him. It's just…"

"What?"

"He's going to say we can't work together anymore, I just know it."

"You know why you can't work together anymore."

"You're on his side?!"

"No, I just know that it's against department policy for you two to continue to be partners."

"Come on, she's the most rational person any of us know, if she can't compartmentalize our relationship while we're at work, then no one can."

"You're right. She _is_ rational – but you're not. You let your gut and your emotions lead you. Can you honestly tell me that, in a life or death situation that you were both involved in, you wouldn't throw protocol out of the window to protect her?"

"No, I can't. But that's what I would have said before we were married, too. And honestly, if it was you or one of the squints I would say the same thing."

"Well, that's very sweet," Cam laughed and shook her head. "Just don't let your boss hear you say that."

"Look, I'm going to tell him eventually. Just not yet. He doesn't _need_ to know yet. We can handle it."

"I hope you're right," she replied as the doors opened, stepping out onto the second floor and leaving him to his dilemma as he rode down to the lobby.

A/N2 There won't be an update for the next couple of weeks, as I am off to New York with my good friend, fellow writer and official CSI/Bones comrade, Natters999. Also, I am making a conscious effort to restrict my author notes. I ramble too much. That is all.


	15. Papa Don't Preach

A/N Hey gang! How are you all doing? Doesn't it seem like forever since I last updated? It does to me! I've missed you guys! Anyway, I hope you all had a fabulous Easter (I did, I was in NYC, thanks for asking) and that you enjoy this chapter!

Even as she pulled into the parking lot of Max's apartment building, Temperance wasn't sure why she was going to him for help. He didn't exactly have a good track record when it came to being there for his children, but she was hoping for one of the pearls of wisdom he could occasionally be counted on for – since he had crashed back into her life, she had to admit that he sometimes knew what was best for her. _Sometimes._

When she got to his door, he opened it before she even had chance to knock. He looked genuinely worried about her.

"What's the problem? You seemed pretty flustered on the phone?" He moved to allow her to step past him, then shut the door and went to sit on the sofa. He offered her the seat next to him, but she declined, preferring to pace up and down the length of the room.

"Dad, I…" What could she possibly say to explain this situation to him? She needed his advice on figuring out her feelings, but in order to do that, she had to tell him everything. Where would she even begin? How about 'by the way, dad, I'm married to the man who arrested you for murder'? Or maybe 'I got falling-down-drunk and married my partner in a seedy Las Vegas wedding chapel'? Or even, to really dig the knife in to his heart and twist it metaphorically by appealing to his sentimental side, 'your only daughter got married to the man you quite possibly hate but, because of the mixture of alcohol and lust, forgot to call you to walk her down to aisle'? There was no way of phrasing that so he didn't either get angry or upset.

"Honey, you know you can tell me anything. What is it?"

"I did something highly illogical and irrational, and now I am trying to work through the consequences."

"Right…" he said, encouraging her to talk further.

"Do you remember me telling you that Booth and I were going to Nevada to solve a murder?"

"Of course. If I remember, I was highly jealous."

"Well, we…"

"Honey, I think I know where this is going."

Her eyes grew wide at her father's apparent mind-reading abilities. There was simply no way that he could guess what she was about to say. "You do?"

"Yes – you slept with Booth and now your working relationship is suffering because of the unresolved feelings."

"What?"

"Look, I know it's kind of weird to talk to your old man about that sort of thing, but I just want to help you!"

Why did she suddenly feel like she was sixteen years old? "Dad, I'm in my thirties, I'm not embarrassed to talk about sex, even with you."

"So you _did_ sleep with him?"

"Yes. But that isn't the problem."

"Are you pregnant? Do you need me to beat some sense of responsibility into him?!" he asked, his voice suddenly becoming angry.

"No, dad! I… We…" Time seemed to slow down and she felt as if he was looking at her expectantly for hours. "We got married."

She watched as a hundred emotions seemed to flash across his face, none of them she was able to identify – was he angry? Upset? Horrified, even? Then he got up from his chair and slowly walked towards her, his face now a blank slate.

"Dad, I…"

He silenced her by pulling her into a hug and softly planting a kiss on her forehead. She shut her eyes and forgot all about where they were and everything that had ever happened to them and between them in the past. For that moment, all that mattered was that her father was holding her in one of the tightest hugs she had ever had, almost as if he was making up for all the years they had gone without any contact at all. He inhaled shakily and gave her a final squeeze before pulling away from her, taking her face in his hands. "So congratulations are in order then?"

"Thank you."

"How? How did he finally talk you into it?"

"Apparently, I was the one who talked _him_ into it." He looked at her inquisitively and she sighed, having wanted to keep _this_ part of the story from him. "We got drunk and I decided that getting married would be a good idea."

"Oh, Temperance," he replied, laughing as he shook his head.

"Are you upset?"

"Don't be silly. Honey, if you're happy, then I'm happy."

"I _am_ happy."

"So then what did you need my help with?"

"I think I'm in love with Booth."

He threw his head back and laughed. "Booth, your husband?"

"Yes."

"Well… Good! And am I right to presume that he knows that you love him?"

"Yes, I sent him a text message on the way over here."

"A text message?"

"Yes, from my cell phone."

"I know what a text message is, honey. What I meant was, don't you think that's a little impersonal for something so… personal?"

"Well, I didn't until you said that…"

"It's fine, just make sure you call him as soon as you leave here. Now," he said, finally letting her go from his embrace and gesturing for her to sit down on the sofa. "When are we going to get together as a family?"

"We're together as a family right now."

"Uh-uh, aren't you forgetting someone?"

"Oh, Russ."

"No, your husband!"

"No! You can't be serious!"

"Come on, we're family now and I want to spend some quality time with my son-in-law!"

"I don't like the way you just said 'quality time'..."

"Are you two free this weekend?" Max asked, ignoring her. "We'll invite Russ and Amy and the girls, Booth's boy… what's his name? Parker! Although I suppose it's kind of late notice to ask Booth's parents…"

"Wait, what?"

"Booth's parents. Your in-laws!" She had never thought of it like that – by marrying Booth, she had gained more than just a husband. She had inherited a whole family, complete with a child.

"I've never even met them," she whispered, more to herself than to Max, but nonetheless he heard her and gave her a sympathetic look.

"I see. Well, now's your chance! And they can meet me, so we'll get it all over and done with in one swoop. OK?"

"But…"

"Leave it all to me," he interrupted with a wink.

* * *

Temperance and Max spent the rest of the afternoon together. He was mainly interested in her marriage and husband, and kept telling her that it still seemed surreal to him. Soon enough, conversation turned to the fact that she was now step-mother to Parker, and he seemed horrified that she and Booth had been married for almost a month and a half and hadn't told him yet. She eventually confessed that they were both terrified, albeit for slightly different reasons – he was afraid Parker would be told and then she would leave and upset him, and she was scared he would hate her. Upon hearing that, Max simply shook his head and attempted to fix the problem for his daughter.

"You're probably winding yourself up about telling him for nothing – it won't be nearly as bad as you think it will."

"I'm not really sure why I'm coming to you for advice about being a step-parent."

"Could it be because I'm a parent myself?"

Her unspoken response to that hung in the air, and although she hadn't said it aloud, they both knew what she was thinking. He had abandoned his children – he was hardly a role model that she should aspire to be like. Instead of mention this to him, however, she decided to press on with what she had wanted to talk to him about in the first place.

"I've been told I'm not the best candidate for parenting."

"You don't have to be a parent; Parker already has two parents. He just needs to know that you're not the wicked stepmother."

She frowned at him and looked mildly offended. "I'm not wicked."

"Then you'll be fine!"

"But I have no idea how I'm supposed to act towards him. Am I meant to treat him as I do now, or take a more stern motherly approach?"

"Honey, I know you're probably worried about how your own childhood will affect the way you and the boy interact." She frowned again, and he knew that he'd hit the nail on the head with his statement. "You lived in foster homes – having to adjust to new parents each time you moved to a new one. I'm pretty sure you had some good, and some terrible. So act like the good ones, and avoid acting like the terrible ones. Simple."

'_Simple, indeed,'_ she thought to herself.

A/N2 OK, so as you may have gathered from this chapter, coming up is a big ole family reunion! So, let me know what you'd like to see, _who_ you'd like to see (that random relative who was obsessed with Ben Franklin? Come on, you can tell me, wasn't she weird?), and also any random facts that have been mentioned on the show that I need to remember, mainly about Booth's parents. I don't want to forget anything! Also – you guys are amazing, and I *heart* you!


	16. Mother Mother

A/N Good morning/afternoon/evening everyone! (It's evening here, but who knows what time it will be when you - yes, YOU! - read this chapter). It's all kinds of crazy that we're on chapter 16 already. On that note... How old is Parker meant to be anyway? Four? Ten? Sixteen? I honestly don't know, but in my head he's about six. Who cares anyway, he is the epitome of cute, and I hope this chapter proves it! The title of this chapter is the title of a song by Tracy Bonham which may or may not have been released when I was five years old. That really was the best era for music, in my opinion! I still want to marry Dave Grohl and Eddie Vedder (that voice! Oy vey!) and Johnny Rzeznik, and wear flannel and Doc Martins and be a vegan for the wrong reasons… Ah, the nineties!

As Temperance let herself into Booth's apartment that night, she was greeted by him smiling at her as if he had won a large and ludicrous bet – like he had won an argument by getting his opponent to completely give up on their firmly-held beliefs and come round to his side. That cocky belt buckle certainly seemed to match the look on his face right now.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, still smiling at her.

She looked at him suspiciously and replied with hesitation. "Yes, thank you."

He went into the kitchen to get them a couple of beers, and called breezily over his shoulder as he walked. "What did you get up to?"

"I went to visit Max."

"You two talk about anything interesting?"

"Would I be right to conclude that you got my text message?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, I got it, but I didn't really understand what you were trying to say…"

She scoffed and took the beer bottle from him a little more forcefully than she had intended. He kept on grinning regardless. "Are you kidding?"

"Would you mind clarifying it for me?"

She sighed, squirming under his gaze and not meeting his eyes. She felt so awkward saying it aloud. "I have come to the conclusion that I… may… love you."

"Sorry, what was that? I don't think I heard you."

She reached out and swatted at him, wondering if her lawyer would mind getting a call about starting divorce proceedings on a Friday night. "Why do you do that, every single time I try to tell you something important?"

"What can I say, something that good deserves repeating."

"So you _did_ hear!"

"Just humor me, please."

She sighed with frustration and put a hand on either side of his face, so she could look him dead in the eye. "I love you."

His faced turned deathly serious, his smile dropping completely, and he nodded. "Excuse me for a second, will you?" he asked, setting his beer down on the table.

She panicked. She had told him that she loved him – something that she had never told anyone before, _ever_ – and he had got up from the sofa as if she had just told him she had hit his car as she parked up outside. Had she completely misunderstood him? Surely not, he said it often enough – whenever he said goodbye to her, when they woke up in the morning and before they went to sleep at night. Or maybe he hadn't really ever meant it, which explained why he was now… dancing around the room?

"What the hell are you doing?" she exclaimed, trying to be heard over his loud whooping.

"I'm celebrating!" he replied, punching the air and continuing his lap of the room.

"Is that really necessary?"

He stopped dancing and shouting, and crossed the room to stand opposite her. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that? I think I'm entitled to celebrate!"

* * *

"He's going to freak out. I just know it, this is going to confuse the heck out of him and he's going to be in therapy for the rest of his life. He's just not going to understand!"

Although standing in the hallway outside of Rebecca's apartment, about to pick up Parker, was probably not the best time for them to discuss this, she let him freak out on his own for a moment, then asked the question that had been plaguing her for weeks. "What if he doesn't want me to be his stepmother?"

"What?"

"I don't have a particularly strong frame of reference when it comes to parenting. And he's perfectly happy with me being his 'friend'. What if he suddenly decides that he hates me?"

He put his arm round her and looked into her eyes with sincerity. "Are you kidding? He loves you! And I don't think he really understands the concept of wicked stepmothers yet."

"Then what are _you_ worried about?"

He looked at her wide eyed, seeming genuinely taken aback. "Bones, did you just _reverse-psychology_ me?" he asked, his voice full of disdain.

She laughed and looked at him in amusement. "That must have shocked you; I can't remember the last time you called me that."

"Well, it worked. And what are you talking about? I call you 'Bones' all the time."

"At work, yes. But not when you're talking _to_ me – when you're talking _about_ me to someone else."

"Well, if it bothers you, I apologize, Miss 'don't call me Bones'. If I remember rightly, you used to hate it!"

"And I grew to like it!"

They were interrupted when they heard someone clear their throat in front of them. They both looked up to see Rebecca looking at them inquisitively from the doorway. "Are you two seriously arguing on my doorstep at eight thirty on a Saturday?"

"Sorry," Booth offered as they walked into her apartment. "How much did you hear?"

She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a large sip, before gesturing to the machine on the counter by way of offering some to her guests. They both declined and she took another quick sip before answering his question. "I don't make a habit of listening to other people's conversations, Seeley, especially at this hour."

He loudly exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding in relief, and Rebecca quickly turned to face him. "What?"

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. Is Parker ready?"

"Just getting his shoes."

Right on cue, Parker bounded into the kitchen, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his shoes sloppily tied. He immediately went to his father and hugged him round the waist. "Hi, daddy! Hi, Doctor Bones!" He waved in her direction and she stiffly waved back, not really sure how to respond to him.

"Hey, buddy! Here, let me tie your laces for you." He began to kneel down on the floor, but Temperance stopped him.

"I'll do that." He raised his eyebrows at her, but she smiled and crouched down in front of Parker. "Why don't you go and get the rest of his things?" He shot her an 'are you sure?' look, but she waved him off and began tying the boy's shoes.

* * *

The short drive back to Booth's apartment was relatively quiet – Parker did most of the chatting, telling his dad about what he had done during the week. Booth nodded or said 'uh-huh' in all the right places, but Temperance could tell that he wasn't really listening; he was thinking about the fact that, pretty soon, they would have to tell him about them being together. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him straighten in the driver's seat and clear his throat. Now appeared to be the right time to break the news.

"Hey, buddy, me and Bones need to talk to you about something."

"Am I in trouble?"

"No… Why, should you be?"

"No…" Parker replied warily. Temperance fought to suppress a laugh at how alike the two Booths were, and how funny their interactions were.

"Well, we – me and Bones, I mean – uh…" he turned to look at her for help, but she just shrugged.

"You're on your own here."

"Oh boy. Uh…" He wracked his brains trying to think of the right way to phrase what he was about to say, all the while his son looking at him inquisitively.

"Are you getting married?"

Booth's head snapped up in surprise. Where did this boy get his ideas from? He exchanged a look with his wife, raising his eyebrows at her in the form of a silent question, which she answered with a slight nod.

"Yes we are," he confirmed, silently praying to God that there wouldn't be any follow-up questions. He didn't want Parker to be upset that they had got married without him being there. "Are you OK with that?"

"Sure," Parker replied with a shrug, before turning to go back to playing with his toy trucks, which seemed much more interesting than what his dad had to say.

* * *

After dropping off Parker's things at Booth's apartment, they all went to the aquarium, then to the park. It had been a great day, and Temperance couldn't remember the last time she felt so at peace – and she was trying to make the most of it, before the inevitable carnage of their family reunion tomorrow. The sun was beginning to set in the park, she and Parker were tossing a Frisbee back and forth, and her husband was treating them to hotdogs from the vendor by the gates. As she caught the plastic disc and tossed it back to her step-son, she thought about just how well he had embraced that role. She didn't want to push the subject on him and make him talk about it if he didn't want to, but he reacted so well when they told him that she wondered how he really felt. She had to know the logic behind him not seeming to mind.

"So, how do you feel about your father and I getting married?"

"I think it's a great idea!" he replied, tossing the Frisbee back with such enthusiasm that he almost spun himself round in a full circle.

"You do?"

"Yeah! Tyler is gonna be so jealous!"

"Why is that?" She was puzzled about why his best friend from school would be jealous about him having a stepmother. Surely coming from a broken home wasn't desirable to children?

"Because he only has a mom and a dad!" he replied, as if he was the one with multiple doctorates and she was the six year old. "But _I've_ got a mom, a dad, and a Bones!"

She chose not to correct him, or laugh at his childish logic, but instead drop the Frisbee, throw her arms around him and pull him close to her for giving her such a heart-felt welcome into his own unique family.

A/N2 Barf! Tell me if you thought that was completely lame! At this very moment, I am obsessed with randomly shouting 'bones!' in a Scottish accent. Try it! And now you've tried it, I have to tell you something. I've been a very bad writer this week. I only finished this chapter moments before uploading it, and I have only _just_ started on the next chapter. That is _so_ not cool! Thank you all for reading :D


	17. Better Man

A/N No, you're not hallucinating! It's me! Right, I really have no excuse or reason for what happened regarding my less-than-stellar updating. I know it's been way too long, and if you're still here and reading, then I owe you diamonds and jewels, or at least a drink. So, what's taken me so long? For one thing, this chapter has been a total cow to write. I, thankfully, don't have an abusive, alcoholic, absentee father, so I've really had to work hard at this one to do it right. And this chapter is chock full of secondary, tertiary, and even quaternary characters (shout out to Margaret and her Booth-esque friend! Even though she's only a passing mention…). Also, this whole working for a living lark doesn't really leave me with much time to write – I'm literally in front of a computer all day dealing with gas servicing (I said farewell to finance months ago, and I miss it), so this is the last thing I want to do when I get home! Makes me wonder how I managed it when I was in school… I guess what I'm saying is don't be angry/confused/hurt/worried/whatever if I take a while to update again. This story will be finished, even if I have to dictate it to someone when I've lost all my manual dexterity due to old age!

As the couple walked into the main room of Max's apartment, they were immediately greeted by a frosty silence. Hodgins, Angela and Cam sat awkwardly at the small dining table staring into their drinks, while Sweets paced the floor, keeping his eyes focused on the recliner by the window. Russ and Amy were conversing in hushed tones, watching their girls playing quietly on the floor. They could hear Max rattling pans about and slamming the oven door in the kitchen nook.

"Is that them?" Max called from the kitchen, and everyone replied in unison with a very weak 'yes'. He popped his head round the doorway to greet them. "Hi, honey," he said with a smile, then nodded his head in the direction of her husband. "Booth. How's it going? And Parker! Welcome! Can I get you guys a drink – I've got wine, beer, soda?"

"I'll sort that out, you just… go back to whatever it was you were doing. Is everything alright?" Temperance asked, looking around the room once more and noticing the profile view of a man she had never seen before, sitting in the recliner by the window, still being watched by Sweets.

"Wonderful, honey! Booth, your brother called and said he was going to be a little late, something about your grandfather's map-reading skills. And Margaret is at a seminar in Virginia this weekend, so she said she'd stop by if she got chance. I think she said something about bringing along a guy she works with, some kind of security guard for the Ben Franklin Museum, but I told her the more the merrier!"

Booth noticed Temperance out of the corner of his eye, not going to get the drinks as she said, but standing and looking inquisitively over his shoulder. He turned to see what she was staring at – none other than Jim Booth, his father, the man he hadn't had any contact with since he joined the army.

"Parker, why don't you and the girls go play outside," Booth suggested, and he waited until they had left the apartment before speaking again. "What the hell is he doing here?" he asked quietly, looking around the room at anyone who could give him an answer, but completely avoiding the man in question, barely acknowledging him apart from to ask why he was in Max's apartment.

"I invited him," Max replied, coming out of the kitchen and looking confused as to why his son-in-law was clenching his jaw and focusing his steely gaze on the wall at the back of the room. "I know a guy who knows a guy."

"I don't know what that means," Temperance interjected, looking between the two of them and casting a cautionary glance at the man causing all of the tension.

The senior Booth cleared his throat and took a swig from his beer bottle, not taking his eyes off his son. "It means my boy married into a criminal family with some impressive connections. Congratulations on that, by the way. I've heard a lot about your new wife."

"OK, you gave up the right to call me 'your boy' a long time ago. And I think you should just go, alright, we don't want you here." Booth strode over to where his father was, sitting in Max's recliner, and yanked him out of it, dragging him towards the door.

"Well now, wait a minute, wait a minute," Max said, trying to defuse the situation. "I don't understand what's going on here, but I can assure you I only invited him because I assumed you'd want him here. I think we're all being a little hasty. Let's just sit down and get ready to eat, alright?"

"No, he has to go. _Now_."

"He can't."

Booth pinched his brow and shut his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on. "And why is that, Max?"

"Because I invited him to stay here."

"And why the hell would you do that?"

"Well, he's from out of town. He doesn't know anyone. I couldn't very well send him to stay with you or your brother; that would have ruined the surprise…"

Booth senior smiled broadly at his son and slurred, "Surprise!"

Booth was about to throw him out of the apartment, but he stopped suddenly, still gripping his father's arm tightly. He didn't know what he was doing. He wanted – no, _needed_ – to toss the old man out on his ass, he needed him to leave, but he couldn't get his body to follow his mind. After everything that had happened, all the pain that this man had caused him, he couldn't bring himself to haul him out onto the street and beat on him a little. He was bigger than that – by going out there and giving the old man a taste of his own medicine, he would be no better than his father. He would be exactly the same. That was why he set his father down again, albeit a little roughly, and turned to Max. He was about to tell him that his father could stay, so long as he kept his mouth shut, but he was interrupted by the sound of his brother and grandfather out in the hall.

"You can bet they'll have something to say about this," he said, opening the door for them. Before Hank had even had time to greet his grandson, he was zoning in on his estranged son with his fist clenched, aiming it right for his jaw. Jim's reaction was severely delayed from the beers he had already consumed, and he toppled to the ground, despite the fact that he had been hit by his elderly father.

Hank stood over his son, visibly shaking with rage. "You have no idea of all the hard work I had to do, getting it into your sons' heads that hitting and yelling is not normal family behavior, but I think even you'll all agree that sometimes exceptions have to be made."

* * *

Max took Hank into the kitchen to get him a frozen TV dinner to put on his knuckles, while Jim retreated back to the recliner by the window. The squints, along with Russ and Amy, were too shocked by what had transpired to move from their seats, and so stayed where they were in an awkward silence. Temperance came back over from the window where she had been checking on Parker and the girls, who were still playing contentedly in the small playground of Max's apartment complex.

"I'm sorry about this, everyone. If you want to leave, we'll understand."

Angela shook her head and took her friend's hand. "Sweetie, we're family – all of us. I'm sure we're all got family issues we'd rather not bring up at dinner, right?" She looked to the rest of the group for reassurance, and saw them all nod back at her. She was right, after all – Angela herself had a scary rock star for a father. Hodgins was the sole heir to a multi-million dollar corporation. Cam was still in 'contact' with her mother despite the fact that the latter had been dead for years, and herself was now the adoptive mother of a teenage girl. Sweets, like Booth, had been physically abused, then, when he finally had a stable home life, his adoptive parents both died within a short time period. Russ's family problems were well-known, and even Amy's father had walked out on her and her mother when she was young. In spite of their familial issues and what their respective relationships lacked, none of them could ever say that they were unhappy with what they _did_ have – each other.

"Thanks, Ange."

Russ smiled at his sister and offered her the small bowl of peanuts that Max had set out on the table. "And to think, Tempe, you and I always thought that _our_ family was screwed up…" he offered with a hearty laugh.

* * *

While his wife was having a heart-to-heart with all of her extended family and his grandfather was having his war-wounds treated, Booth stepped out into the hall with Jared to discuss what they ought to do about their dad. As he pulled the door closed behind him, Jared couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

"Well, I thought this dinner would be awkward – what with me making out with your wife and all – but I had no idea _just how_ awkward…"

"I don't think that's really the right word for it."

"I guess not. So, what do we do here? I mean, I'm all for taking him outside if you know what I mean, but you appear to be having other ideas. What's going on, man?"

Booth shook his head and sighed heavily. "I don't know. I want him gone, but I just can't do it. Maybe we could just shut him in Max's bedroom for a while?"

"What, with a case of beer? Think that'll keep him occupied long enough?"

"It will if he passes out. I just think we should be the bigger men here, you know?"

Jared sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Alright. But the second he starts making trouble, he's gone."

"That's fine with me."

They shook hands, Booth clapping his brother on the back, and Jared laughed. "I gotta tell you; sometimes being the bigger man isn't the most enjoyable option."

* * *

Thankfully, Max hadn't cooked a particularly elaborate meal, and so within half an hour of arriving, they were all sitting down to eat, saving them from having to make small talk with the stranger among them. Before they began, Max announced that he had a few words to say.

Jim staggered to his feet, almost knocking Angela's glass from her hand as he did so, and cleared his throat. "Actually, Max, _I'd_ like to propose a toast," he slurred. "To my boy, Seeley. It's been real great to see you again. I'd like… I'd like to congratulate you on your marriage. You've really done the family proud, son."

Booth couldn't remember his father ever saying that he was proud of him before. Unsure what to say to his sudden declaration, he simply looked at him and said, "Thanks, dad."

Jim carried on as if his son hadn't said anything. "Yeah, I'm really proud. Proud you've welcomed two convicted felons into our family. Proud that my grandson's new stepmother is this…" he looked off into the far corner of the room, as if searching there for the right word. "This _woman_, who plays around with dead people for a living."

"I do not _play_ with dead people for a living!" Temperance exclaimed.

He ignored her and turned back to Booth. "And you! You throw away a promising military career to work with this bunch of freaks!" He gestured to the Squints, who shifted uncomfortably under his drunken gaze.

Booth stood up quickly, knocking his chair to the floor with a loud crash. Everyone quickly turned to stare at him, including Parker, Hayley and Emma, who were sitting at a smaller table in the adjoining living room. "That's enough!" He sidestepped his fallen chair and went to where Jim was still standing, grabbing him roughly by the collar. "You can insult me all you like. Hell, you can even insult Max and the squints, Lord knows I do. But don't you ever – _ever_ – talk about my wife like that."

"_I'm_ all the family you need. You'll realize that when she up and leaves you, just like everyone else has. You and her will never last." He looked him right in the eye, almost pleading with him. "You can do so much better, Seel. It's not too late, you know!"

"Alright, outside. Now."

He pulled Jim towards the door, fairly easily in his drunken state. He hadn't wanted it to end this way – he would have been perfectly alright with leaving him to his own devices, then going home and never thinking about him again. But things were never easy with his father – he always had to do things the hard way.

"Booth, please," Temperance said from behind him. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I'm not. I'm finally doing something smart." He nodded at her reassuringly and reached for the door. "Jared?"

"I'm right behind you, bro."

* * *

On the way home that night, Booth and Temperance didn't talk about what happened outside. All she knew was that he, Jared and Jim were gone for about ten minutes, and the two brothers came back to the apartment alone – and neither of them had so much as a scratch. Booth then announced that they were leaving, and they took Parker and dropped him off at Rebecca's. The rest of their journey home was in silence, until they stepped out of the elevator.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Temperance asked, unlocking the door to her apartment and fumbling along the wall for the light switch once they were inside.

"I think I need to be alone for a little while, OK? I just need to… Digest everything." With that, he was gone, stalking off into the bedroom and closing the door heavily behind him. She had a feeling that, perhaps for a change, he wasn't talking about food, but rather everything that had transpired between them and the rest of their collective family over the course of the evening. She had known from the moment Max suggested it that the whole thing would be a bad idea, and she had been right – her husband was upset and had effectively isolated himself until his anger had subsided, her brother's perfect little family were horrified by what they had seen, and she was all alone before she had even shut the front door.

She dropped her keys onto the table beside the phone, and noticed an illuminated red 'one' flashing on her machine. She hit a button and the automated voice of a woman rang out into the room.

"_You have one new message – first message…"_ There was a sharp beep and a different, real-life woman's voice spoke.

"_Hi, this is Collette Brannigan from the Department of Child Services with a message for Doctor Temperance Brennan. I'm calling about the possibility of housing a child with you for the next few nights, until a more permanent arrangement can be found. Please call me back as soon as you get this."_

A/N2 Yet another chapter I finished right before uploading! I wrote half of it about 2 months ago, and then finished the rest tonight. I think I've been out of the game too long and have forgotten how to write – this seemed very soap-opera-ish. It was intended to be dramatic, but do you think I've gone a bit too far? Let me know what you thought, I really do appreciate it! And thank you so much for all your helpful suggestions for this chapter! 'Til the next time xx [Yes, I had to reupload it! I know, I've obviously forgotten how to use this website too!]


	18. One

A/N Hey! I almost feel embarrassed uploading a new chapter after all this time – I realize it's a lot to ask of you to keep waiting for new chapters, I do. But I am very grateful to those of you who have stuck with me. My excuse this time (kind of a spoiler but not enough to make you cry)? I'm completely losing my patience with this darned show – I was really hoping they would come back from their respective countries and everything would be different. But no, here we are with the same story lines from every other series. I need more! I find myself unable to watch the show anymore (because I cringe – I have an issue with awkward people on TV and in film; I feel awkward for them and I feel that enough in my everyday life, thank you – that Jersey Shore episode? My god, I wanted to smack Brennan and say, 'get a grip woman, how many years have you been working with actual people and you _still_ haven't learned how to interact?' It was quirky in the first season, now I'm just bored!). Anyway, this is a really longwinded way of me telling you that I'm working on the next chapter, and I also apologize for the length of this one – but it's better than nothing, right? I'm really sorry; I just have a lot I need to say! Also, I'm now officially a Forensic Anthropologist in training – just thought I'd tell you! Please enjoy this chapter, if you don't, I will cry!

* * *

Temperance listened to the message twice more before walking slowly towards the bedroom, where her husband was currently hiding from the world. As she pushed open the door as quietly as she could, she cast her eyes towards him lying under the covers of her bed. She couldn't remember ever seeing him look so small or helpless – even when she thought back to all the times she had sat by his side in the hospital, wondering if he was in pain or not. This time, she could see clearly from his face that what he was feeling was definitely pain, just not of the physical kind that she could comprehend. He had always had a turbulent relationship with his father, she knew that, but she had never witnessed what that did to him. Now, as she looked at him lying on his side, his knees drawn up to his chest, she felt like her heart was being held in a vice. These were yet more feelings that he induced in her that she simply couldn't understand, so she brushed them aside as best she could and did what she came into her bedroom to do.

"Are you OK?" she asked him, her voice betraying her remaining fear at seeing him this way.

"I don't really feel like talking right now."

"I understand. But I need to talk to you."

He drew the duvet up higher towards his chin, trying to hide from her purposeful gaze. "Can't it wait until tomorrow? I just want to go to sleep." He was muffled but she could hear the change in his voice – she couldn't tell whether it was annoyance at her persistence, or relief that, for that moment at least, he wasn't thinking about his father.

"It's important – there's a message on the machine from Child Services. They want me to take a temporary foster child. A baby boy. That's all I know."

"For how long?"

"The woman I spoke to said a couple of days. But I have to go pick him up now."

His eyes met hers for the first time since they had left Max's apartment in a hurry, and she hoped it wasn't obvious when she gasped – his eyes were red, his whole face appearing more tired, and, she hated to admit, older than she remembered. "Now, as in this minute?"

"Yes. They're waiting for me. And I need to go and pick up a few things first – formula, diapers… I should probably make a list…" She went back into the living room and he heard her scattering paper over her desk trying to find a pen. He wasn't sure if she could hear him or not, but he didn't want to move from the bed. Instead, he sank back down on to his back and laced his fingers behind his head, choosing to carry on the conversation from where he was.

"Do you need me to come with you? I don't really think I'm in the right frame of mind at the moment."

She considered her answer for a moment – she needed him by her side, to let her know that she was going to be alright and not fail miserably at caring for this child, but also to let her know that _they_ would be alright, that they would be able to work through the trauma of the evening. But at the same time, she thought it might make him worse to have to have to act like a parent after that. She had seen how he could barely look Parker in the eye when they had dropped him off. It would be best for both of them for her to do this on her own. "I can go alone. Should I get pacifiers?"

"And wipes," he called back. "I'll help you sort everything out when you get back, OK?"

He heard her frantic motion in the living room stop suddenly, then the sound of her footsteps coming back towards the bedroom, much slower than when she left him. "About that… Legally, you are not allowed to be here when I bring the baby back."

"What?"

"Do you remember when I was going through the process of becoming a potential foster parent? All of the investigations into my background, my finances?"

"I remember you complaining about 'the invasion of your privacy' when all you were trying to do was help children in need."

"Yes. Well, obviously, you haven't had any of those checks carried out. So while the baby is here, you can't be. You can come and visit, but you can't be living here."

"Well, can they not make an exception? I mean, I'm a Federal Agent, surely that holds some weight?"

"It's only going to be for a few days. You can just go back to your apartment, and you can watch whatever you want on TV or eat anything you want for dinner. It'll be like a vacation. And… I think the time on your own would be good for you." As she sat down on the edge of the bed, she knew she wasn't convincing him. But they didn't have another option – she had a responsibility, and he would just have to accept that. Then, when the baby was given a proper home in a couple of days at most, they would have to get him registered as a foster parent as well. "I really have to go now."

"I guess I should start packing then."

"I'm sorry, but what choice do we have?"

"I know. Its fine," he said as he pulled her closer to him. "I'll just miss you, that's all."

"I'll miss you too. But I can't miss you unless we're apart, so now I _really_ have to go!"

They both got up off the bed. Booth went to the wardrobe to start taking out some of his clothes, while Temperance went out to the hall closet to find him a suitcase. She wheeled it into the room for him, kissed him goodbye – more than once – and left with her list clasped tightly in her hand.

* * *

"I can't remember the last time I was awake at three in the morning, and remains weren't involved," she said out into the dimly-lit room, not to anyone in particular. Joey seemed to react favourably to the sound of her voice, and his crying softened to quiet snuffles as he began to doze off again. This time, she wouldn't make the mistake of trying to lay him back down in the collapsible crib she had bought. It wouldn't hurt her to let him sleep in her arms while she sat on the sofa.

So far, since she had first held him when his social worker handed him to her, Joey had not been what she was expecting at all. It was after ten when she arrived at the group home, and Collette had greeted her at the door, buzzing her through with one hand while the other cradled the tiny baby, tightly swaddled in a blanket similar to one she had as a child. They had exchanged greetings, and then Collette informed her that this was the child that she would be taking home. He was a much younger infant than Temperance was expecting – she thought she might be taking one that was a few months old at least, but the one now being held out to her was the very definition of a newborn – no more than two days old, she estimated. She took him, now learning that Joey was the name given to him by his mother, the mother who hadn't been planning to put him up for adoption when she gave birth, but after he was born she realized she wouldn't be able to cope. Looking down at his face, she saw why – Joey had the unmistakable characteristics of a baby with Downs Syndrome.

Collette looked at her then, thanking her for taking him at such short notice. Then, as the older woman looked back down at Joey, Temperance recognized the look in her eyes – she had seen it so many times when she was a foster child. A look that screamed damaged goods, the child that no one wants. She hadn't stayed much longer, collecting the paperwork and allowing Collette to help her strap Joey into the car seat she had hastily fitted in the back of her car. As she started the engine, she felt relief to be taking Joey out of there and back to her own home.

He was silent now, his tiny fists clutching at Booth's Grateful Dead t-shirt that she had adopted as her own. As she watched him sleep, she wondered how his own mother didn't simply fall in love with him – it should have been her holding him now, not this stranger.

She felt a strange affinity with the small infant tucked safely in her arms. They were both forced unwittingly into lives of loneliness – much like she had never asked to be abandoned by her parents, Joey had never asked to be born and then himself be abandoned. And yet, here they both were, having to deal with the consequences of the actions of their parents. She had grown up knowing that she was alone in the world, and she had been working through that alone for years; she imagined this child would have to do the same. At that moment, she just wanted to keep him tucked against her chest forever, protecting him from whatever the future held for him. For now, all she could do was be there for him the best she could, much like her own surrogate family had been there for her. She and Joey would muddle through together.

* * *

A/N2 And that's why it took me so long to write – I wanted to do it right! Now here's what I really want to say about this chapter – I know this particular story line doesn't make much sense and could well be impossible in real life. Brennan has this whole fake/double identity thing going on – how does that work for her every day? Did she get her name legally changed in the end? Because, if not, would that not cause serious issues for her – like getting a passport (which she obviously has), and for the sake of this argument, being a registered foster parent? And if that scene in the seventh episode still stands true, if she can't have a gun because she was charged (not convicted) with a felony then I'm pretty sure they wouldn't let her take a kid. I imagine they're strict about that sort of stuff. But hey, this is fiction, damn all that bureaucratic rubbish! Also, I probably sound like I'm on drugs, but I can assure you I'm not, I just ramble a lot. Thank you if you are still reading, you rock my world! And once again, I'm sorry for the delay.


	19. Born To Be My Baby

A/N You don't have to say it. Believe me, I know. All I can do is tell you I'm sorry and offer my undying gratitude for sticking with me. My problem is that I'm very inconsistent about writing – I can write 5 pages in an afternoon, then the next day I'll open it up again and just stare blankly at it. Then I get stressed because I think 'I should be writing!' and that makes it worse. But I randomly thought tonight, 'you know what, I feel like taking another crack at this', and that's what I did! Just sat down and finished off all the bits that needed doing – and of course, now I'm sat here wondering why I couldn't do this months ago. But hey, that's life.

I think this will be my last Bones story – well, this and the one-shot that will just not get out of my head and onto the page. I only watch the show now out of morbid curiosity – it's like driving past a car crash. I don't want to look, but I need to know what happens. So, with that total lack of inspiration, it's hard to write. That's also part of the reason for my hiatus. But you know what, it feels _really_ good to finally finish this.

* * *

_She had decided in that moment that she wanted to adopt Joey, to be a parent to him. She knew that she could make a difference in this boy's life – not just by being there for him and loving him, but by being able to give him access to medical treatment and schools that he would never have a chance to utilize if left in the foster system. His life had started with abandonment and prejudice, and she wanted to do everything she could to make sure he would never have to face either of those things ever again. She knew deep down that she would never be able to fully shelter him from anything, but she felt compelled to try._

_

* * *

_

As Booth stood outside his wife's front door the next morning, fumbling to get his key into the lock while juggling a bag of groceries in his other hand, he could hear what sounded like frantic shushing coming from her hallway, then the sound of her unlocking the door.

"Can't you do anything quietly?" she asked, kissing his cheek and closing the door softly behind him.

"Sorry," he whispered, taking the bag into the kitchen for her while looking around for the baby they were keeping so quiet for. "Where is he?"

"The bedroom, hopefully sleeping. Unfortunately, he seems to be nocturnal."

Booth laughed and shook his head. "They all are."

"Do you want to see him?" He nodded and she led him towards the bedroom, pressing her fingers to her lips as she opened the door. They both crept into the room then stood over Joey's crib, watching the newborn stare back at them. "Still awake. But he's what people would describe as 'cute', right?"

He was quiet for a moment, staring intently at him, and then he turned to Temperance. "He's definitely cute. And a troublemaker!" he added, tickling Joey's stomach.

They stood watching him for a few more minutes, then went back to the living room. They sat together on the sofa, talking about nothing in particular, and after a while Temperance got up to check on Joey. "I think it's time for you to go," she said when she came back.

"Worried about the social workers checking up on us, huh?"

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying your nights of freedom!"

"I've only just got used to getting to wake up next to you every morning." He pretended to be hurt as she laughed at his childish pouting. "But it's not like we'll be apart for a long time. You said yourself, he's only here until they find him somewhere else."

"About that… I was thinking that we could take him. Permanently."

"Permanently?"

"Yes!"

"There's quite a difference between looking after a baby for three days and for the rest of your life." When she rolled her eyes at him and began unpacking the groceries he had brought, he continued. "Let's be honest, Joey has a disability, he's probably going to need to be cared for… well, forever. That's a big commitment. Are you sure it's something we're ready for? I mean, I know we work well as a team, but don't you think we should wait a little while?"

"You're a father, you've done all this before. Do you think I wouldn't be able to handle it?"

"No, it's not that, I just think it's something that needs more consideration than a few hours. I mean, what about work? We need to take a few more days to make a decision."

"I understand your words, but the way you say them makes me think you're not as sure about this as I am."

"I'm just saying, this is different than when Parker was a baby. Taking care of Joey is going to be different than taking care of a normal child."

She stared at him for what seemed like forever, and he thought for one terrible second that he had never seen her look at anyone so coldly before, not even murderers or rapists. Then she finally spoke, very carefully and deliberately, as if she was choosing her words with purpose. "I see. What you're saying is that you wouldn't have a problem with us fostering him if he was 'normal'." She practically spat the word at him, clutching a pack of kitchen towels to her chest as if that was all that kept her from launching herself at her husband.

"That's not what I meant!"

"You've said yourself plenty of times that _I'm_ not normal – are you going to abandon me in a few years as well?"

"That's different…"

"How?"

He started to speak, but decided that he would only make things worse. "I have to get going if I'm going to beat the traffic. We'll talk about it later, alright."

"I won't forget."

* * *

Joey's lack of sleep at night meant he spent most of the daytime sprawled on his back in his collapsible crib, snoring softly. Temperance had hoped to get some work done to make the most of the quiet time, but soon realized that all the files she needed were neatly stacked on her desk where she had left them on Friday night, with the intention that she wouldn't be returning until Monday. By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, she was bored of sitting in silence trying desperately not to disturb her sleeping baby. It was then that she decided to risk waking him up by putting him in his car seat and taking him on his first trip to the Jeffersonian.

As she pulled into her designated parking spot in front of the building, she couldn't help but wonder what people would think when she walked in with Joey – it was Sunday, but people would still be there working. She had rushed into a spontaneous marriage on a whim, and now it would appear to them that she had done the same thing again – coming in to work after an absence and announcing that she now had a baby, just like when she and Booth returned from Las Vegas. The only difference this time was that it would be difficult for this to be kept hidden for long.

She hadn't spoken to anyone since the family dinner on Friday night, not because she was avoiding them, but because her weekend had been a little hectic. Eventually she had just switched her phone off, since all the shrill ringing seemed to do was upset Joey or wake him up when he was trying to sleep.

As Temperance walked into her office, Angela jumped up out of the swivel chair behind the desk.

"I didn't have time to put together a proper baby shower, but I got you a present anyway." She handed Temperance a gift bag and lifted Joey out of the carrier, immediately making faces at him.

"How did you know about Joey?"

"I called Booth when you didn't answer your phone. He wasn't very talkative, but he told me all the details. He's super cute."

"Who, Booth?"

"I meant the baby! I'm married…" she replied with a wink.

"I might not be for much longer," Temperance sighed, sitting down on the sofa and handing Angela Joey's favourite pacifier.

"What?"

"I want to adopt Joey. Booth doesn't think it's a good idea."

"I feel like I've stepped into the Twilight Zone…"

"I used to watch that show with Max, but I don't see the significance here."

"It's like you two have switched personalities – its Booth who's spontaneous and all about emotions and feelings, and you're the level-headed one who weighs up a situation before acting. But Joey seems to have changed all that, because now you've suddenly decided that you want to be a mother and Booth is being the sensible one."

"Do you think I'm being irrational?"

"You know I'm all about heart," she smiled, looking fondly at Joey. "And I can see how you've totally been entranced by this little guy. I'm just worried that you're rushing into this without having time to really know if motherhood is going to suit you. You've had him for a weekend!"

Temperance sighed and rubbed her eyes wearily. She was tired and really didn't feel like having a meaningful conversation right now. "I'm just worried that if I don't rush into it, I'll change my mind. Like with getting married. If we hadn't been inebriated, it would never have happened. Sweets seems to think I need to be spontaneous to get what I really want."

"Well, I think you'll kick ass at being a mom, just like you kick ass at being a wife." She heard her friend scoff, and added, "We all saw it on Friday, you two make it work. You'll sort this out, and be a happy little family, just like I know you want deep down."

"It's not going to be that easy."

"Why not?"

"Booth would be more than happy to raise a child with me, but only if we can have a 'normal' child. He doesn't want this one." She looked down at Joey sadly, wondering how it was possible for her to go from being single to being married, then to a single mother in a matter of months.

"Did he actually say that?"

"It was the _way_ he said it."

Angela looked at her pointedly. "Since when have you been any good at interpreting things like that?"

* * *

They didn't stay at the Jeffersonian for long before they headed back to Temperance's apartment – Joey was beginning to show signs of tiredness, much to her relief, and she wanted to get him home before he was overtired and too frustrated to fall asleep.

She had just put him down in her bedroom when she head a soft knocking on her front door. She crept across the living room as quickly and quietly as she could, and opened it to see her husband standing opposite her.

"What are you doing here?"

"We said we were going to talk later – this is later, " he replied as if it should be obvious to her.

"Look, Joey is finally sleeping, so I really don't want to argue with you right now."

"I'm not here to argue, alright, I just want to explain. What I said before was wrong. I was just taken by surprise – I didn't think you were ready for us to have a family of our own."

"I didn't think I was, either. But I also didn't think I was ready for marriage, and look how that turned out."

He smiled and pulled her into a hug. Before she could say anything, the doorbell rang, and she found herself rolling her eyes again, praying for the chiming not to be followed by Joey crying. Booth opened the door to find Joey's social worker, Collette, standing on the other side.

"I was just leaving…" He said, ushering her inside and picking up his coat from where he had slung it on the back of a chair.

"No need," she replied with a smile. "I've got some good news, Dr. Brennan – the paperwork has all been put through, fast-tracked because of the high security clearance you both have, and your husband can move back in."

"What paperwork?" she asked, looking between Booth and the social worker. "I don't understand."

"You haven't told her?" Collette asked.

"I didn't want to jinx anything…" He shrugged and turned back to Temperance. "I applied to be a foster parent. So we can be a family. The three of us."

She was completely taken aback – this was the man who had seemed to want nothing to do with Joey less than 24 hours ago, and now was apparently willing to take him into his heart and his home. "Why?" was all she could ask.

"Because I love you."

* * *

A/N2 Hmm… Did that seem contrived to you? I hope not! I really didn't want this to be a mush-fest, but I guess that's the way it was always going to be – it had to be about these two characters that we yell at through the TV finally finding their voices and admitting their feelings. There was always going to be sap! And I know some of you didn't like the idea of a baby, but it seems I can't not put a baby in my Bones stories. But anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoyed this story that went on far too long (it should have stopped at chapter 8!), and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read, favourite, and review. I'll be back again one day, but for now I'm just going to bask in the knowledge that I won't have anyone hounding me for the final chapter! I love you all – no jokes. Hannah xx


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